Always Been Bad
by DarkEternity96
Summary: "What can I tell you, baby? I've always been bad." Despite Spike's claim that this was the case, Buffy soon discovers a whole new side to her secret lover, as she travels back in time and meets a young gentleman named William... whom she has been ordered to kill, to prevent Spike from ever existing. But the question is: can Buffy bear to live in a world where Spike does not exist?
1. In love 'till it kills you both

"Are you sure this is gonna work?" I asked with a quirked eyebrow. I was still trying to get my head around the whole time-travel thing. Like seriously, how is it even possible...? Meh. Maybe I should have concentrated more in Science class.

"Yes, Buffy, I'm certain it will work perfectly," my Watcher exclaimed, smiling at me reassuringly. "Once you jump into this portal, you will feel a distinctly... odd, yet not unpleasant, tingling sensation. You will begin to feel light-headed, and then...", Giles trailed off, glancing at Willow for help. She was busy fussing over my 'Victorian' outfit; a long, flowing, blue dress- which, although I'm generally more of a 'jeans and T-shirt' type of girl, could be considered kinda cute... that is, if it didn't come with a corset. Did Victorian chicks ever fancy, ya know, _breathing_?!

"Ouch!" I winced, as Willow proceeded to tighten the strings of the corset even further.

"Oops! Sorry, Buffy," she giggled sheepishly, "I just want to make sure you look the part!"

"Yeah, well I definitely _feel_ the part..."I grumbled, "If the part involves the inability to breathe!"

"You'll be fine, Buffy. Also, may I say, the dress does look rather fetching on you... perhaps you should consider wearing such attire more often!" Giles smiled brightly.

I gave him a pointed look.

He readjusted his glasses, chuckling. "Or... perhaps not. Anyway, Willow, could you please continue explaining the process? You're the one who has made this possible, after all," he prompted, with a grateful smile in her direction.

"Sure!" Willow nodded earnestly, side-stepping round to face me. I could see nervous excitement flashing in her eyes.

"Um, well, basically, Buffy, you are going to be absolutely _fine_. I know what I'm doing, honest, and in this case, I _definitely_ know what I'm doing! So yeah, all the, um, magical 'doing' has been done in a precise and practical manner... meaning, you will travel back in time, kill Spike... well, 'past' Spike, and then return back to-"

"You want me to kill _Spike_?!"

Well, this was definitely news to me.

"Oops..." Willow mouthed '_sorry_' at Giles, who was cradling his face in his hands.

"Yes, Buffy. That _is_ your ultimate mission." I opened my mouth to protest in sheer outrage, but Giles cut me off with a pleading expression. "We _were_ going to inform you sooner, but we just assumed-"

"You assumed I wouldn't get all psyched-up to go travelling in your metaphorical Tardis if I knew the reason was to kill my... my..."

There was an awkward silence, and a series of confused expressions from my two spectators, as I tried searching for the right word. What even _was_ Spike to me? My friend? Nah, if 'friends' ever got up to the things we did, that friendship would be effectively ruined. Which worked nicely, because we weren't exactly friends in the first place. Hell, we were more mortal enemies than we ever were _friends_. But what exactly could I say? _"Oh yeah, guys, not to drop a bombshell on you or anything... but ya know that mass-murdering vamp who you all despise with a passion? Yeah, he's kinda secretly been my sex buddy for the past couple of months... with a passion."_ Ha, that would go down well.

I sighed. "You knew I wouldn't want to go if I knew I had to kill... _him."_

Yay, that worked! 'Him' simply defines a male being. And Spike is definitely, _definitely_ male...

"Buffy, why are you blushing?"

I quickly snapped out of my daze and gave Willow an innocent, puppy-eyed look. "No reason! I wasn't even blushing, when have I ever blushed? I don't _blush..._ but anyway, _anyway_, back to the point. You guys lied to me because you didn't think I'd like what I was gonna hear, but now you think it's acceptable to tell me 'cos you also know, being my dear friends, that there is no chance in Hell I'd have worn this freaking corset for nothing!" I finished my rant with an uncontrollable pout.

My two 'dear', deceitful friends exchanged sheepish looks. Giles cleared his throat, and walked towards me, putting an apologetic hand on my shoulder. Gingerly, as if he expected me to punch him or something. Which I was strongly considering.

"I was planning on telling you in a more... _subtle_ manner, yet I suppose there's no time like the present-"

"Or the _past_, in this case!"

Giles shot Willow a warning look. She quickly busied herself with the careful inspection of her nails. They were painted black; the nail polish slightly chipped. _Like Spike's. _

"As I was saying... Spike, I'm afraid, must be killed. We have all come to realize that, unfortunately, we have given him far too close and personal access to our, um, our _alliance._ It is also especially worrying that he appears to have some sort of _control_ over you, Buffy. I haven't the faintest idea why, or how, nor am I questioning your abilities and judgement as the Slayer; yet I predict that your relationship could have an impact on both these factors in the future, if it continues."

"Relationship? What _relationship_?" I began laughing in an exaggerated manner, causing Willow to glance up at me curiously, abandoning the careful study of her nails. "Me and Spike... we don't _have_ a relationship!

"I am aware-"

"I tolerate him. He tolerates me. And that's it! That's all there will ever be, I-"

"Buffy, I wasn't questioning whether you two were _romantically_ involved, Heavens no!" Giles spluttered.

"...Oh." _Oops_.

"The very idea is preposterous!" _If only he knew_. "You, the Slayer, and he, a vampire, renowned for his unparalleled capabilities of sheer, ruthless EVIL-"

"He isn't _that_ evil..." I defended automatically, yet soon regretted it when Giles' face morphed into one of suspicion and confusion. "Anymore! I- I mean, he isn't that evil _anymore_," I corrected. "He's changed, Giles, and- and even though yes, to some degree his presence _does_ have an impact on me, surely that isn't a reason for me to kill him? And why go back in time to do it, anyway? If he was in this room, I'd be perfectly capable of staking him right here, right now-"

"But you wouldn't," Giles said softly. "That's the problem... in some way, shape or form, this undead creature has had a profound impact upon you, and- and I worry it will end up affecting your Slaying capabilities. He could so easily become an obstacle, one which is not easily removed. That, being another problem with killing him in his current form; he has already brutally murdered two other slayers- imagine the risk of him killing you!"

"I could take him." I exclaimed indignantly.

"Perhaps, if you two were strangers again, then yes." Giles pacified. "However, even when that was the case, he still got away... in fact, you were within mere inches of your _life_, Buffy! And now you are somewhat _attached_ to him-"

"I. Am. Not. Attached. _Why_ do you all seem to think that? He is a disgusting, evil, undead _thing_ which I am most certainly not attached to!"

"In which case, you will have no trouble with killing him." Giles said evenly.

I found myself at a loss for words.

"But... but surely, there still isn't a _real_ reason for killing him?" I asked quietly.

"Buffy, in these past few weeks he has gone on a rampage, running riot. The chip has clearly begun to work inadequately, as I have received reports that he has begun... killing again."

My mind swam. "...How do you know it was him?"

"One young man was found with a railroad spike protruding from his skull."

All I could offer was a muffled_ "oh"_ of surprise. Although I wasn't really surprised at all. His chip had started faltering a while back, and it was exactly two weeks ago today when I pretty much ripped out his heart and stamped on it. _"I can't love you. I'm just being... weak and selfish... and it's killing me. I have to be strong about this."_ Yeah, I didn't just stamp on it... I stamped on it in stiletto heels.

_Oh boy. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy... what the Hell have I done?!_

"Therefore, it has been unanimously decided that the easiest, most methodical way of killing Spike will be to go back in time, and kill his human self, William- a far safer alternative, don't you think?"

"But... but surely William is innocent? I can't just kill an innocent human being!" I exclaimed desperately.

"All you have to do is think of what he'll _become_."

"Yeah B-Buffy, I know it's hard, but you know that this is really for the best..." Willow piped up, smiling at me anxiously. "If you erase Spike's existence as a vampire, think of all the people you'll save!"

"Then he'll have never existed..." I stared into space, not wanting to believe nor able to comprehend what I was hearing. "Look, Giles, I don't think I can do this. Spike... never existing? That's just plain weird! If he doesn't exist then the whole path of time will change; the whole _world_ will change!"

"For the better," Giles countered firmly. "You may not realize, but we only came to this decision because we care about you, Buffy. It's what's best for you, and the rest of the world."

"Now, are you ready?" Willow said brightly, although there was a certain tinge of sadness in her eyes. I was obviously not the only one who was uneasy with this whole_ 'Let's kill human Spike!'_ situation.

"I... I don't know, I-"

"Unless of course, you do harbor feelings for this vampire?" Giles inquired, tilting his head to one side with an expression of curiosity mingled with fear.

"No! No, of course not..."

"Of course not," Giles echoed with a nervous, yet relieved laugh. "I apologize for even insinuating such a bizarre scenario!"

I mentally face-palmed.

"But I must stress, that each and every one of us is perfectly capable of killing a mere human. I simply gave the task to you, as your role is, of course, to 'slay', and you have been most acquainted with Spike, therefore it seems fair to give the responsibility to you, to deal with in your own way. However, if you refuse..."

"I'll do it." For some unknown reason, I couldn't bear the thought of anyone else killing Spike. Spike... William... _whatever._ Either way, I decided that if anyone had to end his life (or undead life, strictly speaking), it had to be me. I fingered the knife in my pocket, finally knowing why the Scooby gang insisted I take one. No staking and baking for _this_ vampire. He'd have to be killed with a knife.

I continued inwardly talking to myself in such a casual manner, whilst Willow gave my corset one final tug, and Giles talked me over the necessity to "acquaint myself with the enemy before I kill him" due to "basic Victorian etiquette." I continued making little morbid jokes to myself whilst Giles gave me a fatherly hug, uttering quiet words of attempted sympathetic understanding, while Willow stood engrossed in magical mutterings, eyes fixated upon the portal. I continued telling myself that none of this was a big deal in the slightest- just a "_slay for the day_", whilst I stepped closer and closer to the portal, readying myself to jump into its beckoning light.

But all the while, my stomach was churning, my mind was writhing and my heart was breaking.

_Get a grip, Buffy, it's only Spike, remember? He's a vampire. You're a slayer. You slay vampires, it's what you do. Come on now, there's no need to feel this way- it's only Spike._

But although I wasn't fully sure why, that was precisely the problem. The fact that it was _Spike_. I didn't love him, no... yet for some reason, as I dived into the portal, I felt the hot wetness of tears. The tears I'd been holding back this entire time.


	2. Not your world

**_London, 1880  
_**

* * *

_Cold._

_Wet._

_Rough._

_Solid... ground?_

With a small groan, I gingerly lifted my head a fraction, managing to open my eyes slightly.

_Yep, that's definitely the ground._

I sat up fully, attempting to soothe the dull ache in my head by massaging my temples.

_It's probably from the fall..._

I then made an attempt to stand, whilst straightening out my _stupid_ dress, yet I suddenly felt my vision go blurry. A wave of dizziness overcame me, and I found myself once again, making friends with the floor.

_Now, that is** definitely** from the fall. That, and the whole travelling-through-time-and-space shebang._

As I lay there, attempting to collect myself, I didn't notice that I was being watched.

"Oi, lady!"

I froze.

"Didn't ya know that lyin' on the ground in sucha invitin' manner can easily give a bloke the wrong idea?"

Sinister undertones to the guttural, drunken voice- which seemed to appear from nowhere- made me instinctively leap to my feet, fighting any signs of dizziness in abundance.

"W-who are you?"

"That 'aint important, sweetheart." A filthy, greasy-looking man clad only in a ragged shirt and trousers appeared, clutching at a half-empty bottle in one hand, and leering at me from round the corner of the alleyway.

_Crap. I'm in an alleyway. Nice aim, Willow._

I instinctively reached into my pocket for my stake, before realizing that: a) he was not a vampire, and b) I didn't bring my stake. Instead, I had a knife... which, of course, was perfectly appropriate for killing humans- yet that was not something I wanted to start making a habit of.

_I guess I'll just have to beat him up instead. Shame._

"The only important thing round 'ere is that you do what I say," he slurred, taking a swig out of the bottle, before carelessly chucking it behind him, and grabbing me roughly round the waist. "Get it, sweetheart?" His breath was putrid, he reeked of body odour, and his groping hands had begun to wonder downwards...

"Unghhhh!"

My knee had jammed itself firmly into his crotch area.

My victim dropped to his knees, clutching himself in agony. "You _bitch!_"

My response was a right hook to his face. He collapsed to the floor again, reeling with shock.

"You're going to bloody well pay for that, sweetheart-"

I interrupted the scumbag with another punch. "Firstly, I'm not your 'sweetheart'. And secondly, it doesn't exactly look like I'm gonna have to 'pay' for anything, when I can quite clearly kick your ass. Besides, I-"

"How dare you, uncouth ruffian! How _dare_ you attack a meager Lady, who is entirely unprotected- not even being escorted by a gentleman?"

I felt a surge of annoyance at the presumptuous tone of the intruder. If there was one thing I disliked the most, it was an interrupted victory. Especially if it was by a Victorian male who attempted an act of 'rescue' whilst voicing very derogatory views towards women.

"Thanks, but I am _perfectly_ capable-" I began, turning around to face my sexist 'savior'.

"Hush now, soon there will no further pain left for you to endure," he replied with a cocky smile- whilst I attempted to mask a grimace. He turned back to the mute 'ruffian', who, I had apparently knocked unconscious. I inwardly cheered.

_"A meager Lady", huh? I'd like to see a man get such a burly brute out cold with only a couple of punches!_

"...It appears that the scoundrel has passed out from fright. Ah well, at least you are safe now, Miss." I was rewarded with a dazzling smile, one which I managed to return halfheartedly.

_I may as well humor him. I suppose his heart is in the right place... and, I could use him to my advantage._

"Thank you very much, kind Sir- I am so grateful for your act of heroism!" I said through gritted teeth.

The man, who was clearly of a far higher class than my attacker- implied by his well-groomed moustache, unnecessary walking cane and attire of stereotypical Victorian finery- simply shrugged.

"It was nothing," he claimed coolly, although the tone of his voice insinuated that he _clearly_ thought the opposite.

"Then, perhaps... perhaps, I could ask you one last favor? If you'd be so kind, that is-"

"Of course, Miss. In what way may I assist you?" He flashed me another killer smile, revealing rows of small, pearly white teeth. I inwardly shuddered. He was _far_ too smarmy for my taste.

"Do you know of a young man named William?"

His bravado deflated slightly, accompanied by a flash of disappointment in his eyes- as if he was expecting a different request. Regardless, such disappointment was quickly replaced by an expression of intense thought and contemplation.

_Surely, if Spike used to be half as "bad" as he is now, he'd be a renowned name- feared throughout the whole of London._

"No, I'm afraid I'm not actually acquainted with any man by the name of William."

"Are you sure?" I probed desperately. "What about... what about William the Bloody? Does that name ring any bells?"

_If he thinks I'm insane, so be it._

Much to my surprise, my new-found, unnamed 'friend' promptly burst into a fit of giddy laughter.

I raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" He continued chortling to himself, placing a gloved hand over his rather large mouth. "...Sir?"

He wiped his eyes in an exaggerated manner, finally regaining his self-control. "I do apologize, Miss, but please... please tell me that I am mistaken! Surely, a woman like you cannot possibly be looking for _William the Bloody_?!"

I found his reaction to be decidedly odd, yet was too gripped by the sudden excitement of meeting a human Spike to take any notice- all thoughts of my 'mission' aside.

"Yes! Yes, although 'William the Bloody' is merely a nickname, I believe. So, can you please tell me his full name, and where exactly I can find him?"

I was met by a look of sheer disbelief, followed by the bitter response: "His real name is William Pratt. And you'll most likely find him in the _Library_." He scoffed at the last few words, before stalking away down the street- leaving me with the hilarious image of Spike using a library card. Despite the odd location, I thought nothing of it- assuming that the Library was the standard Victorian 'hang-out'.

_A little odd, but what can you expect... this** is** over a hundred years ago. Things are bound to be a little unorthodox.  
_

* * *

The library was spacious, with shelves storing endless stacks of books, and numerous desks- with only a minimal amount of people occupying them. I walked over to a desk in the corner of the room, where a young man was sat, engrossed in a heavy-looking hardback novel. In fact, he appeared to be so caught up in whatever it was he was reading that he didn't even notice me approach. Not even when I cleared my throat. Twice.

_Well, this could be awkward..._

It didn't bother me though. In fact, I thought it was kinda cute how oblivious he was to the world around him; blissfully unaware of anything other than the story woven among the pages. That is, until-

"Excuse me, Sir?"

He jumped, snapping the book shut. My eyes met a bespectacled gaze of piercing blue.

"Sorry if I startled you..."

"No, no! It is I who should apologize, Miss," he spoke in a soft, shy, well-cultured voice."It was awfully rude of me to be so distracted-"

"It's fine, honestly!" I couldn't help but smile at his bashful yet sincere expression.

_Don't I recognize him from somewhere...?_

"So... is there um, any way I can help you, Miss?"

"Yes, hopefully," I replied, eyeing him curiously, trying to figure out why he looked so..._ familiar._

"Do you know if a man named William has been here recently?"

_God, it's freaking weird having to keep using Spike's former name._

But then, something even weirder happened. Something weird, bizarre and downright unexpected.

"Well, I can certainly help you there... _I'm_ William!" he exclaimed, practically beaming. "William Pratt."

_No. Freaking. Way._

_He... was Spike?! He couldn't possibly- I mean, he looks nothing like Spike! At all!_

And yet, as I gazed at the familiar stranger in utter shock, I felt stupid for not instantly realizing why I recognized him before. Because, although he was a world away from the sexily surly, bad-ass, punk rocker vampire I'd put up with for the past five years, he was still distinctly... _him._ Although, his hair was longer; flopping over his forehead in loose waves. And it was definitely not bleach-blonde. Nope, the Big Bad's natural hair colour was a far darker blonde- verging on mousey brown. And... wow, I never imagined he'd ever have worn glasses! They were dear little circular ones too, balancing precariously on the end of his nose- resulting in him having to subconsciously readjust them every now and again. But behind them, there were the beautiful eyes I remembered so vividly; eyes of a rich, azure hue, which often darkened with passion or rage- sometimes even with both. And God, I remembered being rendered_ incapable_ to resist becoming hypnotized by the stormy ocean of his eyes. Yet as a human, whilst his eyes were still the colour of the ocean, they appeared more calm and tranquil- filled with an innocence I had never seen before. And they were still so _very_ beautiful...

_For the love of God, Buffy, stop gawping at the poor guy! He thinks you've only just met, and yet you're practically staring into his soul._

_Ha. Spike has a soul._

The ironic chuckle of my conscience was interrupted by the deep, silken tones of William's voice. And although I should have been referring to him as 'Spike', it was practically impossible- given the fact that the voice speaking had a cultivated, refined English accent. And nothing about Spike was _refined_ in the slightest.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss!"

Again, Spike would never use the word 'pleasure', unless he was referring to one of our... _encounters._ And he would most certainly not call me 'Miss'. Well, unless we were engaging in some sort of roleplay-

"And, please do forgive me if I'm mistaken, but was that an... American accent I just had the privilege of hearing?" He looked genuinely intrigued.

_Bless him. I suppose they didn't really get too many foreigners during the 1800's. Must've been due to the distinct lack of planes._

"Yeah, yeah you're right," I giggled. "I'm originally from America, but I- I travel... you could call it a hobby, I suppose, but it's pretty much become a lifestyle choice."

William's eyes brightened with childlike excitement, and his mouth began slowly curving upward. _"Fascinating."_

"I just feel like there's no point sitting at home waiting for the world to find you- you've gotta find it for yourself." I trailed off, lost in a daze of thought and memory.

"I entirely agree! I've always had the burning desire to explore the world- to truly experience it, and thus, actually do something _worthy_ with my life. It seems such a shame to waste it, and yet... oh, I don't know, I'm simply babbling nonsense," William blushed, nudging his glasses gently back into position.

"No, please, do go on!" I encouraged.

"Well, I suppose it's just that I always feel as if something is holding me back," he confessed. "Perhaps it is just me, and my lack of courage. Or perhaps, I am simply not one born to accomplish great things. Perhaps, I was born merely to exist- comfortably, of course- but nothing more than this comfortable, insignificant existence. And I am quite satisfied with that."

_That isn't true! You have no idea what you'll see, experience and endure in the next hundred years! At least, that's what **should** happen..._

"However, I shall leave more exploratory matters to people such as you, _Miss..._? Oh, I do apologize, I never did catch your name," William smiled earnestly, tilting his head to one side in a way which was oh-so-Spike.

_God help me._

"Oh! Um, it's B-Buffy..."

"I beg your pardon?"_ Uh oh. Poor human Spikey looks confused._

"I mean... Elizabeth. Yeah, that's my name. Elizabeth Summers," I said, smiling stiffly, whilst inwardly scolding myself for forgetting that the name 'Buffy' wasn't exactly the norm in Victorian times.

_So now, ironically, I'll have to use the name that everyone always annoyingly assumes is my 'proper' name. Ah well. At least this name belongs to a Queen..._

"What a delightful name!" William beamed, striding clumsily round his desk in order to fully face me. I almost burst out laughing at what he was wearing. Gone was the fitting black t-shirt, tight black jeans and leather duster. Instead, he was sporting a crisp white shirt, pale blue waistcoat, silken cravat and high-waisted trousers. Much to my further amusement, he unconsciously completed the 'look', in my opinion, by giving a curt little bow, whilst asking, "And why, may I ask, is such an accomplished, intelligent, and, um, dare I add... b-beautiful young Lady such as yourself, searching for me?"

_...Did Spike just stutter? Oh my, this is too priceless._

"Well, I-"

_Crap. I knew I'd forgotten to think of something._

While I fumbled for a suitable lie, Spike- or should I say, William- continued gazing at me with silent awe. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before; I mean, sure, I've been subject to more than a few of Spike's smouldering stares, but with William, it was entirely different. Perhaps it was that innocence in his eyes... I don't know.

_It's not like I can just casually tell him that I travelled here in a magical portal, on a quest to kill him due to the inconvenience of his future evil blood-sucking self..._

"I, um, I- I just heard a lot about you!"

_Great start, Buffy! Gold star for you!_

William's dazed expression suddenly morphed into one of horror. He visibly gulped. "You... you have?"

"Yeah, all kinds of things!" I lied fluidly, praying that somehow I'd be able to string a believable story together as the conversation progressed.

"Oh, Heavens no!"

_Well, that certainly makes a refreshing change from "Bloody Hell!"..._

"Please, Miss. Elizabeth, don't believe a word they say! It's only pretense- they merely wish to make a fool of me!" William shifted his gaze to the floor. He looked genuinely distraught, the poor thing. But why? Who was saying things about him? The very idea of Spike giving a toss about what anyone else said- or even _allowing_ them to say anything against him- was ridiculous. And yet this man, who had the same surprisingly long eyelashes, the same impossibly high cheekbones, and the same full, defined lips... he _was_ Spike. Spike had clearly just... _changed_, since being human. "So please spare me," he continued, his eyes meeting mine sadly, "if all you're here for is to incessantly mock me, like the rest of them do."

"I... I have no idea what you mean!" I said truthfully, "I have only heard positive things about you!"

William frowned, his elegant eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "P-positive things? Whatever could such 'things' have possibly stemmed fro-" Suddenly his face lit up. "My- my poetry? Did you hear positive things about my_ poetry?!_"

_Poetry. Spike, the Big Bad, used to write poetry. Now I really have heard it all..._

"Yes! _Poetry!_ It was your poetry which I heard such- such raving reviews about! And I simply had to find you, because... because..."

_It looks like there's only gonna be one way to go about this._

"I want you to teach me how to write poetry."


	3. Are we having a conversation?

"So..."

We were sat, side by side, on a park bench- in what had previously been a very awkward silence.

"Sorry, I um... I'm not very good at this," William stammered.

_And to think he'd be bitten and become the most charming rogue you'd ever meet._

A giggle escaped- and before I knew it, I found myself in a fit of uncontrollable hysterics. But, it's not like you couldn't possibly blame me. There was no situation more bizarre than being sat next to a human Spike, having a_ poetry_ lesson- which was going absolutely nowhere, due to his current incapability to even string a sentence together. However, as my laughing fit gradually subsided, I saw a flash of hurt in William's eyes.

_Oh boy, now I feel like I've just kicked a puppy.  
_  
"I do apologize for that little... _outburst,_ William," I giggled, wiping my eyes. "But I promise I wasn't laughing at you-"

"Don't worry, I'm used to it," William sighed, pushing his glasses back into place.

"Honestly! I was just remembering something amusing, that's all!"

William eyed me suspiciously, and then shook his head. "Very well..."

"Now, where were we?" I asked, smiling warmly.

"I think, I may have been in the middle of apologizing to you," he blushed. "So yes, please forgive me for the lack of progress with your lesson thus far, although I must confess- it is probably due to my lack of, um, _experience_ in this area. You see, I'm simply not... not_ used_ to being around women as beautiful as you." My expression softened, as William suddenly found immense interest in the paved path beneath his feet.

"You do flatter me, William... but honestly, there's no need to worry! It's not like I have an _urgent_ need to learn about poetry- at least, not right away..."

_Or, how about never?_

"Can't we just, ya know, have a chat?"

I was met with a blank expression.

"...I mean, engage in a nice conversation! _Talk._ We barely know each other- there's still so much about you that's a mystery to me!"

William breathed an obvious sigh of relief. "_...Talk? _Why, certainly!" he agreed happily. "Although I'm afraid, Miss. Elizabeth, there isn't really an awful lot to know about me- I'm hardly the 'mysterious' type!" he chuckled.

_Oh really? Yeah, try telling me that in a century or so..._

"Besides, I'd much rather hear _your_ stories-"

"Give over!" I laughed, punching him playfully on the arm. "It was _me_ who brought up this whole 'getting to know you' thingy!"

"I do love the way you speak," William replied admiringly, returning my joke-punch with a gentle pat.

"Well, if that's the case, you should feel _pretty_ prepared to follow the rules."

"...There are rules?" William asked, his face a picture of bewildered innocence.

"Of course," I smiled coyly. "There are _plenty_ of rules, my friend, which you will be informed of... in good time. But the first, most obvious one, is that- seeing as I asked for us to have this chat- it should be me who decides what the topic is."

William quirked an eyebrow, subconsciously imitating his future vampire self- a feat which sent unwilling shivers down my spine. "That doesn't sound like a very legitimate rule, Elizabeth-"

"Are you gonna play nice, or do I have to start being forceful?"

William laughed- a real, genuine laugh. Again, it was exactly the same as Spike's. Not when he smirked... or snickered, or chuckled evilly to himself, of course. Which I'll admit, was the majority of the time. But on occasion, I had the privilege of hearing him actually _laugh_... and, as much as I hated to admit it, it was utterly infectious. So, when William laughed, I couldn't control my grin- despite the valiant attempt to maintain a mock pout.

"Forceful?" he spluttered. "I'm not sure if I like the sound of that!"

_"...Or do I?" Spike whispered seductively._

_Get out of my conscience, Spike. You're not welcome here._

"So, are ya gonna tell me everything there is to know about you, or do I have to resort to such drastic measures?" I asked, still grinning widely.

"Fine, fine, if I must!" William chuckled, suddenly seeming to be completely at ease. "But as I said, there isn't much to tell..."

I gave him a stern look, to which he simply smiled good-naturedly. "But, I _will _tell you all that I deem necessary!" He cleared his throat. "So um... well, firstly, my name is William Pratt- as you already know. I am twenty-four years of age, and have lived in the same house all my life. It is a beautiful house, I- I have been lucky enough to have a rather privileged background; one which I believe has shaped me as a person, without negatively affecting my judgement. Unlike some..." he added bitterly, a statement which instantly increased my curiosity. But then, the subject changed. "Although, my... my father died when I was merely a small child, which I suppose makes my experiences differ somewhat to others with similar financial circumstances."

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, William-"

"No no, Elizabeth, do not apologize! As I said, it was years ago," he soothed with a reassuring smile. "I have little recollection of my father... although, my mother deemed it her duty to compensate for this loss. Which, she most certainly did- I am utterly blessed to have been raised by such a caring, doting, _wonderful_ woman. Her name is Anne, and I still live with her now. I love her very, very much," he stated softly, eyes shining.

_I'd forgotten that even Spike had a family once. God, and to think that his dad died before he could remember him... not even an undead bloodsucker deserves to endure such a tragedy when they were alive. __And then, there's the blatant fact that he was total mummy's boy... talk about the unexpected! Although I suppose now, I pretty much expect the unexpected._

But what was most unexpected, was how I couldn't possibly deny that such a display of love in its purest form was utterly... _adorable_. And calling Spike, in any form, 'adorable' was not something I'd expected to happen. _Ever._

"That's lovely," I cooed, finding myself incapable to control my smile. "I guess I'm kinda the same... my dad left when I was little, so it was pretty much just mum and me. And Dawn," I added quickly, almost expecting her to jump out from behind a bush and get all stroppy at me for almost forgetting her. "She's my little sister... the stereotypical pain in the ass who you can't help but love to pieces."

"You have a sister? How delightful!" William beamed. "I've always longed for a brother or sister, but, alas, I'm an only child. Nevertheless, may I add, I am dreadfully sorry for your father's departure... although, I suppose you too consequently share an extraordinary bond with your mother. Do her and... Dawn... travel around with you?"

I paused. "N-no, um... Dawn still goes to school back home, and... my mum died last year."

William's smile faded. "Oh heavens, I... I am so, so sorry for your loss, Elizabeth." His impossibly blue eyes shone with sincere sorrow. "I cannot even _begin_ to imagine the pain, I..." he trailed off, at a loss for words, yet the timid touch of his hand, brushing against my own in an attempt of comfort, spoke volumes.

_Get a grip, Buffy! The last thing the poor guy needs is to see you cry.  
_  
"You're right. Losing a parent is one of the most painful things this cruel life could possibly throw at us- and afterwards, I wasn't myself for a long time," I replied weakly. "But, in the end, I think that if anything, her passing has made me a stronger person. Because I _had_ to be. People... rely on me. And also, she had a brain tumour, you see, so I suppose I can at least comfort myself with the knowledge that she... she isn't suffering anymore."

_For the love of God, Buffy, don't you dare cry..._

As I fought back the tears which threatened to fall, I felt William gently squeeze my hand. I looked up at him fully, and saw a face wracked with sympathy; a beautiful face contorted with emotion, as if he too was holding back tears.

"You are a very strong woman, Elizabeth. And for that, I admire you endlessly."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure there's someone else- a_ female_ someone else, to be more specific- who you admire just as much as me, if not more!" I countered, with a shaky smile.

"Oh really? Why, Elizabeth, you do make outlandish assumptions!" William matched my jovial tone, quickly noticing my desire to shift to a more light-hearted topic.

"Perhaps, but it is a well-known fact that any 'outlandish' assumptions I make are always, well..._ true_!" I declared smugly, my forced smile transforming into a wicked grin, as I noticed a blush subtly staining William's cheeks. I decided to stay true to Buffy form, and get straight to the point. "So... who is she?"

"Oh no, Elizabeth, you are quite mistaken... there isn't anyone! I do not harbor feelings of..._ that_ kind, for anyone! Not anyone at all!" William stuttered, his face crimson.

I shook my head at him pityingly. "And you _seriously_ think I'm gonna believe that? Trust me, William, I've been places. And no matter where it is I go, it's impossible to mistake the face of a man in love. So come on, tell me... who's the lucky girl?"

"Fine, fine!" William huffed. "If you must know... her name is Cecily."

There was a long pause, implying that he had stopped speaking, yet I continued gazing at him expectantly. He sighed again.

"I- I don't entirely know what it is you would like to know about her, but-"

"Just tell me more about her! What's she like? How did you meet? What was it that, ya know, _drew_ you towards her?"

_Why am I asking so many questions? It's not like I care about who Spike hooked up with in his days as a Victorian nerd._

'_Spike' and 'nerd'. Now, those are two words I never thought I'd put in the same sentence._

"Well, I suppose I've never been much of a 'catch', as such, when it comes to women..."

_Just you wait. You're practically a pussy magnet in the 20th century._

"And I know many men who are far more confident and charming than I am... why, I just sit in a corner and write my poetry! Therefore, I've never really had the courage to approach a woman who caught my eye- I suppose it just isn't in my nature! But,_ Cecily..._" He breathed her name as if it were a prayer. "Cecily and I have certain... family connections, so have been well-acquainted for quite some time now. She is beautiful, intelligent, sophisticated... a true woman of class. Of course, she is consequently _entirely_ out of my league- yet, a man can dream."

_Why have I already assumed that she is a total bitch?_

"And, on occasion, when her family visits mine, Cecily_ willingly_ listens to my poetry! So, I sit and recite to her on these rare and blissful occasions- never once telling her that... every last poem is written about _her._"

I sat in stunned silence, overwhelmed by the utter romance of such a gesture. I also found myself incapable of ignoring the way I felt when he stared dreamily into the distance, smiling adoringly every time he said her name.

_I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous? As **if** I'm jealous in any way, shape or form!_

"I have never experienced such... feelings before, hence, I discovered that writing poetry was the only way fit to express what is within my heart."

_Okay, maybe I am a little jealous..._

_But only a little. And it's not because this is human Spike or anything, it's just because this whole scenario is so darn **cute.**_

"Aw!" I squealed, clapping my hand to my mouth. "That is just about the most adorable thing I have ever heard... _ever!"_

William laughed, looking slightly flustered. "I highly doubt that! Nor was it my intention to-"

"All I can say, William, is that if Cecily doesn't realize how lucky she is to have somehow earned this place within your heart, she is the craziest woman in the whole of London," I proclaimed, surprising myself by meaning every word. William gazed at me in awe.

"G-goodness, nobody has ever said anything so... _goodness._" He seemed to be at a loss for words. "Thank you ever so much for your kind words, Elizabeth. You really are the most extraordinary woman I have ever had the privilege of meeting."

"Well, being 'extraordinary' has always been my forte!" I replied jokingly, with a wink.

"So... surely, there is a young man _somewhere_ in the world who has the honour of courting you?" William asked, with great enthusiasm- seeming keen to change the subject from himself. I opened my mouth, ready to tell him that no, I wasn't courting anyone- and didn't plan on doing so anytime soon. But then, William spoke again.

"Are you too in love with someone, Elizabeth?"

_The house was deserted, empty- yet certainly not filled with silence, due to its two very noisy occupants. I, being one of them, punched my usual opponent, Spike, square in the face. He was **really** pissing me off today. There he was, being all sarky and smug and oh-so-cocky; acting like he knew me, like he understood me- when in reality, he had no idea._

_"Oh, poor little lost girl," he sneered, blocking my second swing at his face with an iron fist. "She doesn't fit in anywhere." I found myself pushed roughly onto the hard, stone floor, as he stood over me menacingly. "She's got no one to love."_

_Rage coursed through me like hot lava. "**I'm** lost?" I swiftly jumped back up onto my feet, before shoving him so forcefully that he flew across the room, landing in a crumpled heap by the broken staircase. I strode towards him, anger burning in my eyes. "Look at **you,** you idiot!" I laughed disdainfully. "Poor Spikey! Can't be a human, can't be a vampire... where the hell do you fit in? Your job is to kill the Slayer, but all you can do is follow me around making moon eyes!"_

_"I'm in love with you." he whispered wretchedly._

_...Why? Why did he have to keep saying that? Why did he have to make this whole damn situation even more confusing than it already was? Did the bastard enjoy messing with my mind?!_

_"You're in love with** pain-** admit it!" I demanded, allowing my building anger to flow freely, gushing out of me like a faucet. "You like me because you enjoy getting beat down. So really, who's screwed up?" My expression was one of pure disgust._

_Spike fluidly jumped back to his feet with a swish of leather and the resounding thump of his boots; all traces of pathetic pining gone- only to be replaced by a look of lethal fury._

_"Hello?** Vampire?**" he mocked, sauntering towards me- signature swagger back on point. There was the Spike we all knew and loved. Well, hated, in my case. But regardless, I breathed an inward sigh of relief, as my thoughts returned comfortably back to loathing him- without any excess confusion. I almost cracked a smile, as he seized me roughly round the neck. "I'm supposed to be treading on the dark side. What's your excuse?" he snarled, throwing me violently against the opposite wall. I was stunned for only a few seconds, yet as I regained my strength, I found Spike standing astride me, pinning me to the ground with one muscular arm. Electricity infiltrated the air between us, as I became very aware of his body's close proximity to mine._

_"I wasn't planning on hurting you," he began threateningly, yet I quickly shoved him off me. However, his reflexes were sharp, and he fought me off, yanking me upwards until we were standing directly face to face. "**...Much.**"_

_I laughed bitterly. "You haven't even come **close** to hurting me!"_

_"Afraid to give me the chance?" he purred, in a deep, threatening, provocative voice._

_That did it. Spike had finally pushed me over the edge; I grabbed him by the collar of his leather duster, pinning him brutally up against the wall. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins with the desperation to... well, pretty much beat the living crap out of him._

_God, I hated him so much._

_Yet, in that split-second where I was pressed to him, against the wall, I found myself painfully aware of the solid, masculine strength of his body. He was more than a match for me in a fight, and it was easy to imagine how, under very different circumstances, the animalistic energy which fueled our dangerous 'dancing' could be channeled in a... a **different** way. And it was this very different scenario which often made an unwanted appearance in my thoughts whilst we were fighting- and was certainly consuming them now. In fact, it was all I could think of as I breathed in his distinct scent of leather, cigarette smoke and musky fragrance. It was intoxicating; and was only accentuated by the feeling of tensed, compact muscle through the thin material of his T-shirt._

_And... **oh God.**_

_Another, very masculine part of him was suddenly quite obviously pressing against my thigh._

_My eyes locked with his, and it was clear by the expression on his irritating, flawlessly beautiful face that he was entirely aware of this fact. He smirked at me devilishly; his usually slicked-back hair mussed into a mess of blonde curls; his eyes a dark, smouldering, stormy blue which bore into my own._

_"Are you afraid, Slayer?" he drawled in that rough, London accent- the words leaving his mouth in low, predatory tones which made my lips part, my knees weaken and the throbbing ache in my lower body become practically unbearable. I tightened my grip upon his collar, yanking him further up against the wall- yet also pressed myself flush against him. We were mere inches apart, and I was struck by a sea of conflicting emotions- which were overcome by a consuming wave of passion as he spoke again, in a deep, threatening timbre._

_"Are you afraid I'm gonna-" he began, only to be cut off by my desperate, hungry lips devouring his._

"...Elizabeth? Miss. Elizabeth, are you quite alright?"

I shook my head, attempting to erase such potent, unwanted memories from my mind.

"Huh?" I refocused my gaze to the innocent, smiling face of William; feeling an odd guilt about the explicit, erotic scene- starring his future self- which I was currently replaying in my head.

_Thank God people can't read minds..._

"It just seemed as if you were miles away!" he confessed, eyes flickering over my face in concern.

"..._Me?_ Oh, God no!" I laughed a little too loudly, trying to conceal the fact that I was blushing furiously. "I'm very much here. Here- meaning, totally in this dimension!"

William looked slightly confused, yet regardless, he rewarded me with another of his charming smiles. "Well, in that case, I am very glad that you _are_ here! Although, you never did answer my question..."

"Oh. Y-yes." I stuttered, stumbling for words. "Well, I suppose you could say that I was involved in some sort of_ relationship-_ if you could even call it that- back home... but it was kind of a- um, kind of a forbidden romance. If you get my drift?"

_Come on, I had to make it sound **slightly** poetic..._

William's eyes were like saucers. "Really? A forbidden romance?! Oh heavens, that sounds like something straight from a novel! How... _exotic."_

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," I laughed nervously, feeling decidedly uncomfortable discussing my naughty sexual relations with the vampire version of the man I was talking to. Particularly seeing as this man was clearly at a stage of innocence, in every sense of the word.

"Please, do tell me more! I would simply _adore_ to hear about-"

"Actually, William, don't you think it's getting kind of... late?" I interjected suddenly, gesturing towards the darkening skies.

William, thankfully distracted, pulled out a pocket watch from the inside of his waistcoat. He inspected it carefully, before gasping, "Goodness! How time flies... mother will surely be expecting me home by now-" He paused, tilting his head to one side- again, reminding me painfully of Spike. "Ah, but it appears that I became so immersed by our conversation, that the very thought of poetry completely slipped my mind! Do forgive me, Elizabeth."

"Oh no! No, no, trust me- that is _absolutely_ fine, I don't mind-"

"Perhaps... perhaps you would like to accompany me? It would be grossly ungentlemanly of me to not at least escort you home; yet, if we returned together to my humble abode, we could continue our lesson as previously promised! I just feel terribly guilty, Elizabeth, for wasting your time in such a presumptuous manner-"

"Honestly, William, you have not wasted my time _one_ bit," I interrupted softly.

William looked positively elated. "Well, I _am_ glad! I certainly feel that this has been a most... productive, and highly enjoyable 'chat'- I for one, propose that we should have another of these _'chats'_ very soon!"

"Agreed!"

"But I still feel as if I have failed you, Elizabeth," he concluded, frowning. "So please, will you do me the honor of returning home with me? I shall escort you back to your abode afterwards, of course."

_Well, my choice is pretty obvious._

_Firstly, I don't really fancy staying at that shabby Victorian hotel any longer than necessary._

_And, as much as I knew I shouldn't- especially given the nature of my 'mission' which I'm trying so desperately to forget- I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with William. And that's what they told me to do, right? Become well-acquainted? Spend **time** with him? So, that's exactly what I'm going to do._

"I'd love to," I exclaimed happily. "The honor would be all mine."

"Wonderful!" William beamed. He got to his feet, dusting down his pristine waistcoat, and then offered me his arm. "...Shall we?"

I gave an inward squeal at his gentlemanly behavior, feeling every inch a proper 'Lady'.

"We certainly shall," I replied, linking my arm through his.

Yet as we strolled down the path, arm in arm, any feelings of happiness were instantly overshadowed by the constant reminder of my mission.

_I have been sent here to **kill** this man; this dear, sweet, lovely man._

_And why? Because I can't decide whether I lust for him or loathe him now he's a smoking hot vampire?_

_Surely, if anyone should be stabbed- it should be me, for being an indecisive bitch._

But soon, these conflicting thoughts were swiftly overridden by the mental reminder that I am the_ Slayer._ And the Slayer can't afford to allow anyone else to control her feelings.


	4. Home sweet home

She had his eyes.

Eyes of a piercing, blazing, brilliant blue.

And yet, there was still a certain softness within those azure depths, which was mirrored by her delicate features.

A petite figure which could not be fully discerned, due to her long, flowing gown. A kindly oval face framed by several soft, blonde curls which had escaped her dainty bun. Full, shapely lips, painted a subtle pink. Milky-white skin, and long lashes which framed those familiar eyes. And, of course, it was easy to guess where Spike had inherited his signature cheekbones from. She was exquisitely beautiful, like a porcelain doll. And yet, as she shakily rose to her feet in order to greet me, I noticed that she was perhaps a bit _too_ fragile. William was also clearly aware of this, as he instantly rushed to her side, putting a supporting arm around her waist.

"Honestly, William, I am quite capable!" she chuckled fondly. Her voice was soft, soothing and genteel- like a Summer breeze.

"Why, of course you are, mother!" William's words were contradicted by his concerned expression. "I simply _like_ to help you-"

"I know, darling," she interrupted gently, placing a loving hand upon his cheek. "You have always helped me, my sweet boy, and I appreciate it endlessly." William's face instantly relaxed, and he rewarded her with a genuine smile. She glanced over at me, mirroring his smile with one of her own. "Now, are you going to introduce me to this lovely young Lady, or will you allow her to stand in the doorway feeling as if she is a mere stranger? Because that would not be very gentlemanly in the slightest," she tutted, eyes glittering with mirth.

_Aw. Poor baby's getting scolded._

William blinked a few times, his gaze swiftly returning to me. "Um, s-sorry I, um..." he stuttered, as he hastily scampered back to my side. "Mother, I am honored to present to you Miss. Elizabeth Summers; a new acquaintance of mine, who has travelled here all the way from America."

William's mother tilted her head to one side, her lips curving upward as she surveyed my appearance. She then curtsied in true Victorian fashion- albeit slightly shakily.

_Crap. Looks like I'm gonna have to be polite and return the favour...  
_  
I managed a far less graceful curtsy, whilst I found my eyes drawn to her face with a curiousity I couldn't suppress. It wasn't just the shakiness marring her otherwise elegant movements, but now that she was closer, I also noticed that her golden hair was greying, her creamy skin was lined and pallid, and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes. I then realized that her eyes weren't _exactly_ the same as his; for _his_ eyes had always been bright, exuberant, so full of life.  
_  
Oh the irony._

And yet, the life which clearly used to fill her eyes was fading, and had been replaced by a distinct bleakness. As if she were empty inside. God, I'd seen that desolate emptiness before... and it was not a memory I wished to recall. Yet, it was this memory which brought me to the tragic conclusion that William's mother was _dying._

"It is my greatest pleasure to meet you, Miss. Summers. My name is Mrs. Pratt, yet you may call me Anne," she smiled warmly, wheezing slightly as she spoke. Everyone in the room chose to ignore it. "I do hope my son has made you feel welcome-"

"Mother!"

"-especially given my intuition that you have already made _quite_ the impression on him!" Anne's smile swiftly became mischievous. I couldn't help but grin in return, as William's face flamed with mortification.

"Mother, please!"

"It's alright, William, I don't feel special or anything... I reckon you're just easily impressed!" I teased, beginning to feel much more at ease with the whole situation.

"No, no, you are certainly special, Miss. Summers! William has been babbling non-stop about your "American charm" and how utterly elated he is to be able to spend time with you through these... these _poetry_ lessons you requested-"

"I would not put it quite like that..." William muttered. Anne promptly ignored the pleading looks her son was giving her, taking my arm as she led me towards the hallway.

"You see, my William is rarely found without a pen in his hand- it is his passion, writing down all these thoughts he conjures up in his head. He has quite the imagination," she told me proudly. "So, the notion that somebody- especially a stunning young woman such as yourself- shares such an avid interest in poetry; well, as a mother, I could not possibly ask for anything better!"

"I _am_ glad!" I replied, finding myself enjoying playing the role of a 'perfect playmate'. Especially seeing as I was starting to really like Anne, and wanted to please her. "I have always enjoyed reading poetry, so had an intense yearning to learn the craft myself. I then thought, of course, who better to teach me than your son!" I exclaimed, laughing inwardly at my extravagant lies. I shifted my gaze slightly in order to give a gaping William my sunniest smile, which resulted in him readjusting his glasses in a flustered manner.

"That, again, is not exactly how I would _personally_ put it," he began, returning my smile timidly. "I am by no means the ideal person to teach-"

"Nonsense!" Anne scolded. "You are capable of anything, darling, if you put your mind to it!"

William's response was a disbelieving, yet mute nod; accompanied by another of his sweet, shy smiles.

"Do not listen to him, Miss. Summers, for I am certain that he will be a _splendid_ teacher!" Anne's eyes softened as she gazed upon William dotingly. "Any knowledge or experience he may lack will be more than compensated for by his enthusiasm, passion and pure soul."

The tender moment was abruptly broken by Anne exploding into a fit of coughing, resulting in William rushing to her side, rubbing soothing circles on her back as he guided her gently back to her chair. All I could do was look on sadly, as William propped his mother up onto countless cushions, handing her a handkerchief as she continued coughing into it. It was certainly a nasty cough. As it gradually subsided and she dropped the handkerchief to her lap in exhaustion, I noticed flecks of blood staining the material.

"I do apologize," she wheezed, attempting to catch her breath. "I just have this... this _frightful_ cough, you see, and it makes me awfully tired. How about I take a nap, and leave you two to enjoy your lesson?"

It was clearly more of a request than a question, yet William still looked unsure. "Do you truly wish to be left alone, mother? We can stay with you for a while if you're still not feeling well." He placed a loving hand on her shoulder, and the tender looks exchanged between them made my heart melt.

"Honestly, darling, I feel fine. Now, go and ensure our guest has both a productive and enjoyable time, whilst I catch up on some sleep."

It was then that the true tragedy hit me.

_She is showing signs of fatigue, shortness of breath, and is coughing up blood._

_ It's got to be tuberculosis. _

_And, oh god... it's 1880. 18-freaking-80. A time where such illnesses were incurable. _

My face visibly fell, as I approached the embracing mother and son. William turned to face me, smiling stiffly- although it did not reach his eyes.

"Very well, mother. Do not hesitate to call if you need anything!"

"Don't you worry, William, I won't!" Anne chuckled fondly, clearly attempting to stifle a cough. Her tired eyes flickered back to me. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss. Summers... I do hope to see you again soon."

"The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for allowing me to visit- your house really is lovely," I replied, speaking truthfully for once. "And please, call me Elizabeth."

"In that case, Elizabeth, you are welcome to return here any time you wish," Anne smiled at me warmly, before lying back and shutting her eyes. "Any time at all..."

I saw this as our cue to leave, so grabbed hold of William's arm, coaxing him out of the room. His eyes were fixated upon his now sleeping mother, his expression one of adoration tinged with fear.

As we departed the room, and began journeying up the spiraling staircase, he spoke softly. "Now, Elizabeth, you see why I began writing poetry in the first place." I looked up at him in confusion, as silence filled the air. Yet once we reached the landing, he spoke again, his words barely audible. "To _escape._"

* * *

We sat cross-legged, mere inches apart, upon a beautifully embroidered rug by the fireplace. William glanced at me nervously, attempting to hold the parchment steady in his quivering hands. I gave him a look of encouragement, and he subsequently took a deep breath, and began to read.

"I walk, lost in thought, whilst night reigns the day,  
The mocking stars gleam, entice and betray.  
For hope was instilled, as I begged them to grant  
One wish, one desire, one spell to enchant.  
Yet, why to enchant? Well, for thy love, so bold;  
Effulgent, a beauty, and rare to behold.  
But alas! Thy love is a gift far from reach,  
To your heart, I am a stranger- and yet I beseech  
That my love will not simply be cast to one side,  
For it is a love too impassioned to hide."

Silence infiltrated the room, as William's words washed over me; filling my thoughts, chilling my skin and warming my heart. Of course, it wasn't the greatest poem I had ever heard, but there was something pure and honest about it, which made it transcend into something truly beautiful.

_Although, I'm still slightly unsure what 'effulgent' means..._

"Effulgent," I whispered, finding myself incapable of saying anything else.

"Pardon?" William had to clear his throat a few times before his voice was audible.

"What does effulgent mean?"

"Oh," William blushed. "It means... well, I suppose it simply refers to something shining- something _radiant._"

_If that's the case, William is certainly 'effulgent' right now._

His sculpted features were kissed by the light of the flickering flames; mousey hair was transformed to golden, his pale skin became bronzed, his eyes darkening to shimmering pools of midnight. He had never looked more like Spike than he did at that moment.

_ Despite the fact that he just recited a poem of his own creation, exposing his naive, romanticized perception of love. Which is pretty much the most un-Spike thing anyone could possibly do.  
_  
Any parallels between this man from the past and my vampire lover from the future were further obliterated by the look of utter humiliation on his face. It was then I realized that the poor guy had literally poured his heart out to me, and I had responded like a statue.

_Oops. Nice one, Buffy._

"Well, although I may not have understood _all_ the words," I began, holding up my hand to prevent him from uttering the string of apologies I already heard forming. "What I _do_ understand is that you write beautiful poetry, William," I finished sincerely, meeting his bewildered expression with a reassuring smile.

_Bless him. The guy's really not used to compliments, is he?  
_  
"You... you _like_ it? You like my poetry, Elizabeth? Truly?" he asked incredulously, a spark of hope dancing in his eyes.

"Of course I do!" I breathed, grabbing hold of his surprisingly cold hands and warming them with my own. "I know that everything you wrote was straight from the heart- so how could it be possible for me _not_ to like it? Or for _anyone_ not to like it, for that matter?"

"Trust me, it's certainly possible," he chuckled good-naturedly, his bemused expression betraying his shock at our sudden contact. And I wasn't completely unaffected either- as much as I hated to admit it, I've always loved the feeling of his hand in mine.

_What am I saying? 'I've always loved the feeling'... get a grip, Buffy, they're barely the same person!_

And yet, as his thumb unconsciously stroked my palm, I felt the same electricity which always accompanied Spike's touch.

And it frightened me.

I gingerly retracted my hand from his, only to spot a flash of disappointment in his eyes- which was then quickly masked by elated, elaborate words.

"However, the fact that I am generally mocked for my poetry makes your approval even more astonishing, humbling and- and simply _incredible_ to behold! I am so lucky to have met you, Miss. Elizabeth," he exclaimed happily, his signature shy smile transforming into a beaming grin.

_Why does he have to be so adorable that it physically pains me?_

"Hey, I thought we dropped the formalities," I replied softly.

"Oh yes! I do apologize, _Elizabeth,_" he corrected.

"It's fine, William, honestly! You truly are the perfect gentleman," I complimented coyly, secretly yearning to see that warm blush stain his cheeks again.

"Ah, that is very kind of you to say, but I um, I'm not _really..._" he trailed off, cheeks reddening.

_Awww._

"And speaking of gentlemen, was that poem one which you dashingly wrote for that Lady friend of yours?" I inquired, raising my eyebrows suggestively. "What was her name again? Celia? Cecil? _Celery_?"

William burst out laughing. "No, no! Her name is _Cecily_."

_To be perfectly honest, I had remembered her name, for some bizarre reason. So yeah, I guess I was just kidding myself about how much greater the world would be if she was called 'Celery'..._

"...And I suppose, by some stretch of the imagination, I did write this poem about her. Figuratively speaking."

_Meaning, yes._

As I discarded the burning, unknown feeling which rose in my chest when he admitted that such a poem was written for _her,_ I cast my mind back to the actual poem. Funnily enough, its contents reminded me of something Spike said to me once...

_"You're not...** friends.**" Spike turned, glowering at Angel, who stood protectively at my side. I opened my mouth to make a snappy retort, but was rendered uncharacteristically speechless by Spike's azure orbs burning into mine. "You'll never be friends. You'll be in love 'til it kills you both."_

_From that moment, it was as if Angel was no longer in the room; it was just me and the bleach blonde, leather-clad vampire who was suddenly making a whole lot of sense, even if it was drawled in that rough, English accent of his. Unwillingly, I found myself being drawn to his potent, painful words- blissfully unaware that they were a pretty accurate description of our future_ _relationship._

_"You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other 'til it makes you quiver... but you'll never be **friends.** Real love isn't brains, children! It's **blood.** It's blood screaming inside you to work its will." He stepped forward menacingly, staring deep into my eyes- into my soul. And for some unknown reason, I found it impossible to take my eyes off him, even when he tore his own gaze away from me to glance dismissively at Angel._

_"I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it."_

I was overwhelmed by this sudden kaleidoscope of ironic memories. To my horror, I felt tears spring to my eyes. And to make matters worse, the very sight of William's sweet, sincere expression made more tears threaten to fall, for his face looked far too much like the one which haunted my dreams. And whilst these dreams were locked safely away within my mind, I could not deny reality- _my_ twisted reality. I had been sent here to erase this man from existence; to destroy his immense capability to love, in any form and any time.

_But I have to. I can't let my heart rule my head- I am the **Slayer.**_

"William, I'm sorry but I... I have to leave," I said, praying that the uneven tone of my voice would not betray the growing lump in my throat.

"Leave?" William questioned, his rich voice laced with confusion. "But... _why?_ We have only just begun! I have yet to teach you anything of-"

"I'll come back tomorrow, yeah?" I exclaimed desperately, scrambling to my feet and hastily heading towards the door. "We... we can continue the lesson, and I'll stay all day if you like- but now, I really have to go!"

"Is there something wrong, Elizabeth?" William asked pleadingly, leaping to his feet with unexpected grace. "Have I... have I said something to offend you? If I have, please accept my sincerest-"

"There isn't anything wrong!" I interrupted, attempting to lull him into a false sense of security with a gentle hand upon his shoulder, despite the fact that my eyes were brimming with unshed tears. I choked back a sob when I saw the worry etched upon his face. "Honestly, I'm fine... there is just- just something that I forgot to do."

"Will you not even allow me to escort you home?" he asked quietly, his eyes big and round and pleading and...

_Oh, for the love of God. _

"Of course you can," I sniffed, maintaining my forced smile and attempting to collect myself.

William's sunny smile returned, and he bounded back across the room. "Very well... I'll just get my coat!"

I wiped my eyes quickly, determined to be selfless for once and actually think about what poor William was going through. He had allowed the stranger who was thrust into his life access to the deepest musings of his heart, only to have her run away with no explanation- as he, and his future self, were secretly the root of her woe. Not to mention the fact that the most important person in his life was dying... so if anything, he really needed someone right now.

_And that's what I'm gonna do. I may be the Slayer, but first and foremost, I'm a human being. So for now, screw the mission; I'm gonna let William the Bloody escort me home._


	5. Every syllable

**Hello everyone! :D This is just a quick note to thank you all so much for your support so far... I'm so so _so _glad that people are actually enjoying this story! It is a joy to write, especially as it revolves around one of my favourite pairings! I consequently have the entire plot all laid out in my head, and ready to actively create. So I can assure you, it's gonna start getting _very_ interesting pretty darn soon! ;) So anyway, without further ado, here is the next chapter! It's a big'un, to make up for the slightly longer wait. However, if you all continue reviewing as wonderfully as you have been, the wait for the next update will be far shorter- as you really do inspire me to journey on. :-) Thank you again, and I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

It had been a whole week. A whole week of living in a different time period, centuries away from everything and everyone I hold most dear. But surprisingly, the one thing that made me bizarrely glad to be stuck in a time devoid of modern technology, was the fact that I spent the majority of this time with William; talking, listening, laughing- and occasionally learning how to write poetry. However, I soon discovered that William was very easily distracted, meaning that I often managed to persuade him to read me _his_ poems, rather than me feebly attempting to create my own. And with every poem he read, it felt like he was revealing another piece of his heart to me.

_No wonder he feels so exposed when he recites his poetry. It's pretty much like he's reciting his entire **life.**_

But it was definitely a good thing. A_ wonderful_ thing. I mean, we may have only shared a week of banterous chatter, yet I felt as if I knew William better than I had ever known Spike- despite the more... _intimate_ relationship we had. I mean, sure, I may know his body inside out...

_Mmm. Body of Spike..._

But knowing the body of a person is nothing like knowing their mind, or their heart. So, maybe it was this growing knowledge about William which made me feel like skipping along the pathway leading to his house every time I came to visit. Maybe it was this surge of womanly power which made me feel all giddy and light-headed every time I went to knock on his door. And maybe it was the sharp realization that I was midway through my mission which produced the strange, fluttering sensation in my stomach whenever William came to greet me with his big blue eyes and lop-sided smile.

_Yup, that's definitely the reason._

I mused over these abnormal feelings briefly, as I was welcomed into the Pratt's grand, spacious home for the sixth time that week. However, I was quickly distracted by the absence of both William and Anne. I assumed that Anne was upstairs getting some rest, yet William usually came thundering down the stairs, dashing across the hallway and stopping just short of the door- taking several deep breaths in order to compose himself before actually greeting me. Bless him, I doubt he ever had any idea that I could hear perfectly on the other side of the door; every single time I visited, I would hear his fast, eager footsteps and panting breaths; only to be faced with a comically contrasting calm and casual demeanor as the door eventually swung open.

_It's always nice to know that someone genuinely wants to see you. Especially if it's displayed in such an obliviously adorable fashion..._

But today, as I awaited my usual welcome... it never came. Instead, I was greeted by the rather solemn, stern-looking housekeeper, who simply informed me that "Master William is already occupied with guests."

_Fine, fine... I see how it is._

Eventually, with the aid of my "legitimate pinkie promise" that I had been invited by him personally, she let me in- even if it was with slight reluctance on her part.

_Stupid old hag._

"I will inform Master William of your presence, Miss. Summers-"

"Please, call me Elizabeth," I interrupted, offering a friendly smile.

The housekeeper, who I knew to be called Mrs. Payne, gave me a blank look in response.

"Or we can just leave it at Miss. Summers, if that's easier," I sighed, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes.

For a brief second, a smile flickered upon the elderly woman's lips. "I will fetch Master William for you now, Miss. Elizabeth." She curtseyed, before disappearing through the nearest door.

_Perhaps she isn't so much of a stupid old hag after all..._

But despite any redeeming features Mrs. Payne may have displayed, this didn't stop me from giving into my Slayer instincts- or 'natural curiousity', as some may call it- by following her through the door.

_After a good few seconds, obviously. I'm subtle._

I journeyed up the spiral staircase, a significant few feet behind her, feeling somewhat lonely without William at my side.

_So, now you can't even climb stairs without your arm linked through a man's? So much for being a strong, independent woman, Buffy._

_Jeez, this whole 'Victorian patriarchal society' thing is clearly messing with my head..._

However, as I reached the top of the stairs, any inner musings I was having were swiftly interrupted by the sound of a voice. _His_ voice. My heart leapt at the soft, silken sound- yet abruptly sank as another voice, of a far higher pitch, cut in.

It was a woman.

My eyes narrowed, as I silently mimicked Mrs. Payne's steps. I followed her, as she trotted daintily towards the door of William's study, which happened to be emitting the offending noise... a noise which I soon began to recognize as distinct words.

"Honestly, William! I have absolutely no idea what this... this _Tennyson_ could possibly be harping on about! For all you know, it could be utter nonsense."

"Ah, but Cecily, do you not see? That is the essence, the beauty, the _grandeur_ of his poetry- and, of course, poetry in itself! It is always open to interpretation-"

"But, perhaps I do not _wish_ to interpret it. Perhaps, I have more important things to-"

Thankfully, the conversation was interrupted by a resounding knock on the study door, as Mrs. Payne made her presence known. The door swung open, and I made the snap decision to dive behind the unnecessarily large plant pot which adorned the opposite wall. From behind the thick leaves, I spied a rather flustered William, standing stiffly at the door.

_He's wearing a blue waistcoat again today._

"Master William, please forgive me for interrupting your afternoon-"

"That is quite alright, Mrs. Payne," he reassured, with a charming smile. "Not to worry!"

_That waistcoat really does suit him. Brings out the colour of his eyes._

"Regardless, the only reason for my interruption is the presence of a young Lady who is requesting to see you. An American young Lady, if I may add. Miss. Elizabeth... Summers, I believe? She claims that you cordially invited her, yet if that is not the case, I can simply send her away-"

"No!" William loudly interjected, perhaps a little too sharply. Mrs. Payne's body language revealed obvious shock at him raising his voice. "_No,"_ he repeated, far more gently, although his voice maintained that unusually steely tone. "Miss. Elizabeth is certainly a most honoured guest of mine... I do hope that you welcomed her in the appropriate manner she deserves!"

_Ha. Told you I was his 'honoured guest'..._

"W-why, of course, sir! Would you like me to fetch her for you now...?"

"That would be most splendid! Thank you, Mrs. Payne."

_So, basically she's gonna go downstairs and assume I've done a runner._

_Or, even worse, she's gonna spot me here. Crouching behind a potted plant. Ya know, I don't reckon either of those are gonna give the best impression..._

_Looks like there's only one way around it._

"William. _Hi!_" I awkwardly exclaimed, attempting to stride away from my hiding place as nonchalantly as possible. He looked mildly surprised at my sudden appearance- whilst Mrs. Payne simply gaped in shock. "I heard... voices, so I just automatically followed them- natural curiousity and all- and _voila!_ Looks like I managed to track you down, eh?" I attempted to cover the total flakiness of my story with the practiced, exaggerated laugh of a Senior cheerleader.

_God, how I miss those days..._

Thankfully, William looked too pleased to see me to even consider the fact that I sounded like an utter weirdo.

"I am so glad that you have arrived, Elizabeth!" He paused for an excited intake of breath, only to notice Mrs. Payne stood awkwardly between us. "Many thanks, Mrs. Payne. I believe that is all we shall require for now."

"Very well, sir. Good day, Miss. Summers." Mrs. Payne curtseyed, and then departed. Secretly, I was glad that it was just the two of us again; an unconscious feeling which bewitched my lips into an upward curve.

"I... I do apologize for not being able to greet you personally, as I usually do," he stammered, biting his lip adorably.

_Damn. He has no idea how that becomes such a sexy, signature gesture of his in a century or so._

"It is just that I suddenly became somewhat occupied- a feat entirely unbeknownst to me earlier!"

"Occupied, huh?" I gave a coy wink. "And who exactly was it that occupied you, William?"

He blushed furiously, opening his mouth to protest, yet became distracted by the brunette vision who suddenly emerged from the study.

"Cecily!"

As much as I hated to admit, she really was a beauty. Creamy skin, a curvaceous figure, and a pleasantly round face set with a slightly snub nose, big, doe eyes and full, pouting lips. Her cascade of chocolate curls had been expertly woven into an intricate bun which sat precariously on the top of her head, fully exposing the twin jewels glinting in her ears. She wore an extravagant, scarlet gown... which made my own simple green dress pale in comparison. In fact, everything about her made me feel small and insignificant- especially when I noticed the way William's eyes seemed to relish every ripe, ivory inch of her. Cecily's gaze, however, was sweeping over me. Judgmentally. Cunningly. _Threateningly._ She twirled a tendril of dark hair around her finger, a smile plastered on her face- although her eyes were narrowed.

"Why, William, where are your manners? Won't you please introduce me to your... _guest?_" Her high, grating voice bore tones which were over-sweet... yet were still subtly tinged with a bitter aftertaste.

"M-my apologies, Cecily." William stuttered, abruptly reverting back to the shy shell of a man I met a week ago.

_I knew it. She's a total bitch._

"May I introduce you to a new friend of mine, Miss. Elizabeth Summers," William babbled enthusiastically, his shyness evaporating rapidly as he turned to face me. "We met merely a week ago- in the library, by a stroke of fate! Well, not _purely_ fate, as Elizabeth had been searching for me, you see; she had heard positive reviews about my poetry!"

"Fancy that!" Cecily interjected dryly. I attempted to keep a lid on my simmering temper.

"I still cannot quite believe it myself! I never thought anyone would compliment my poetry... let alone _recommend_ me as a sufficient tutor! But, regardless of the circumstances, I am more than willing to nurture any spark of interest Elizabeth holds for poetry- particularly as it will allow her to express her creativity, when faced with the more mundane side of travelling. Elizabeth travels, you see... she is originally from America, and travels all over the world! She decided to come to England to-"

"I'm sure it is a _fascinating_ story," Cecily's interruption implied that she thought it was anything but. "Yet, do you not think it will be more suitably recalled some other time? We were in the middle of a perfectly civil conversation, prior to the sudden... _intrusion_ of your new guest." She smiled icily in my direction, and I felt my blood begin to boil. "Besides, I have only just_ met_ the woman. I hardly need to know her entire life story!"

"Q-quite right, um, I- um, forgive me..."

_Nice one, Cecily. Reduce the man I've practically reformed back to a quivering wreck, why don't you..._

"You're right," I spoke suddenly, startling them both. I strolled into the study, smiling reassuringly at William, and simply brushing past an aghast Cecily. "We _have_ only just met... but seeing as we clearly have a mutual acquaintance, we may as well properly introduce ourselves," I stated coolly, locking my heated gaze with hers. She stared back with clear disdain.

"Of course. Enchanted to meet you, Miss. Elizabeth," she curtseyed- a mocking bob of her hips. I had already come to the conclusion that I disliked the woman, so decided not to reward her with my newly practiced curtsey. Instead, I simply nodded in return.

"Likewise, Miss. Cecily, likewise."

Cecily and I continued staring at each other, as an awkward silence suffocated the air. William clearly noticed the building tension, and sheepishly situated himself between us.

"Well, now that we are all happily acquainted... would you like to resume our previous lesson, Elizabeth?"

"Oh dear, William," Cecily scoffed, worming her fingers into the crook of his arm. "You appear to have forgotten that you and I were deep in insightful discussion! Do you not wish to continue?" William looked genuinely confused.

"...But, I thought it didn't interest you-"

"Of course it interests me, fool man!" Cecily laughed without humour, swatting William's arm in playful pretense.

_God, can't she stop touching him for like, five seconds?_

"Now, let us sit- and you can enlighten me further about that favourite poet of yours... Tennington, was it not?"

"Tennyson," William corrected.

"_Exactly,_" Cecily's tone was dismissive, as she took firm hold of his arm, practically pulling him towards the velvet armchair in the corner of the room. There was one other identical chair which sat opposite, separated by a rectangular wooden table.

_Well, it's obvious who's gonna shotgun the other seat._

_And I'll just have to stand here, watching this... this woman, acting interested in a man purely because she sees him as some kind of toy that she doesn't want to share. Yeah, I know her sort._

This must have been why I felt my face flush, my breathing quicken and my pulse fluctuate- as I watched her flounce over to the opposite chair, sending a smug smile in my direction. I was... _angry._ And being the Slayer, I don't exactly find strong emotions too easy to hide. I opened my mouth, ready to tell the bitch exactly what I thought of her, without any form of censorship... when William spoke, leaving all my words unspoken. And my breath stolen.

"I'm sorry, Cecily. As much as I would very much enjoy to continue our discussion, it will have to be some other time," he said firmly, pushing against her guiding hands. "Although your every visit is greatly cherished, this particular one was unexpected, and I had already made arrangements with Elizabeth. Therefore, I cannot simply abandon these plans... nor do I wish to." William's voice was soft, and he turned his gaze towards me. His smile was infectious, and I found myself beaming- also in response to his words.

_He wants to spend time with me. He would rather spend time with **me** than her!_

This unexplained, unjustified joy I felt was quickly overshadowed by the sudden assault of guilt. William was the most well-mannered, good-natured man I had ever met, and was probably just being polite. Of course, he would much rather spend time with the woman he loved. Not with silly little me...

_But then again, she's the most shallow, obnoxious, conceited women I've ever had the misfortune of meeting. She doesn't even see him as a man... just a plaything that she can string along because it makes her feel worthy, wanted... powerful. So, if anything, I'll be stopping her from breaking his heart._

Despite reluctantly reminding myself of what I had to eventually... _do_ to William, which was far, far worse than him being mucked around by the aloof object of his affections; for some reason, I couldn't bear the idea of seeing anything that resembled Spike getting his heart broken. It was painful enough when it was _my _rejection which made hi_s_ entire being seem to deflate, cave and crumble. But if it was completely out of my control; if it was at the hands of someone else... someone who is even less worthy of his love than I am...

_No, I can't ever face that again._

_Besides, it'll be nice to wipe that smug smile off the girl who is so used to getting everything she wants._

"B-but... but William," she whined, her full, painted lips forming a pout. "Surely, you would much rather spend your time with_ me?_"

"Don't be so certain, honey," I muttered.

When William fidgeted awkwardly, clearly not giving the desired reaction, Cecily tried a different tact. She sidled up towards him, running her fingers lightly over his arm.

_Again. She's freaking stroking him **again?!**_

"And, of course, I equally enjoy spending time with you. You know how much I adore your company, William," she purred, her dark eyes persuasive and predatory.

William visibly gulped, shooting furtive glances at me. "Well, um, I-"

"Didn't you hear what he said?" I cut in, my voice dripping with venom. "Or do I have to spell it out for ya?" They both looked shocked at my sudden fierce interruption; William probably because he'd never seen me angry before, and Cecily... well, she'd probably forgotten that I was a live human being capable of speech.

"I beg your pardon?" Cecily dropped William's arm, placing a dainty hand upon her chest in feigned surprise. "I was merely-"

"No. You weren't_ 'merely'_ anything," I shot back mockingly, imitating her posh British accent. "All you were doing was ignoring everything he's been saying... William clearly wants to continue our lesson, rather than sitting through any more of your self-centered, empty conversation!"

"How _dare_ you!" Cecily squawked indignantly. "How dare you suggest that our conversations are... are _empty!_ I'll have you know, any conversations involving me are spirited, dynamic, and-"

"Again, you're not listening..." I sighed with mock melancholy.

"Why would I need to listen to the likes of you? Why, I've only just met you... and yet, here you are, ruining a perfectly lovely day with-"

"You are deliberately missing the point. My point is that William has made it obvious that he would much rather-"

"-Spend time with _you_? Nonsense. The man is enamoured with me! All your twee 'poetry lessons' are inspired by _me_... as it is quite obvious that he writes every single one of his poems about-"

"You do both realize that I'm still here, don't you?" William interrupted our childish argument with the raised voice of an adult scolding two squabbling sisters. And yet, as we simultaneously whipped our heads round to face him, fully reminded of his presence, I could tell by his expression that it was also the voice of a man who was deeply hurt. And I was a partial cause of it. Impenetrable waves of anger quickly transformed into the slow, seeping trickle of guilt. I glanced over at Cecily, who wore a matching expression to me.

"Forgive me, William, I didn't mean to assume-"

"Oh no, you were quite right in assuming. However, I think it would be best if you leave..." William stated firmly, although he was unable to disguise the tremor in his voice.

_Oh, William. My poor, poor, William._

Uncharacteristically, Cecily didn't protest. Instead, she simply nodded, and bobbed a curtsey in William's direction, before muttering a brief goodbye as she flounced out of the room- completely ignoring me.

_Well, now that the bitch is finally gone... it looks like it's just him and me._

Silence hung uncomfortably in the air, as I struggled to think of what to say. William seemed equally incapable; he just stood staring blankly into space.

"Would you like me to leave as well, or...?"

William blinked, snapped out of his trance, as he offered me a weary smile. "No," he began slowly. "No, of course not!" He suddenly sprung into action; bustling around the room, clearing papers off the table, and plumping up the cushions of one of the armchairs. "Please, Elizabeth, do have a seat."

I approached the chair hastily. "Are you sure you want me to stay, William?"

"How could I not?" he replied softly, situating himself comfortably in the opposite chair. I too sat down, searching his face curiously.

"Well, I... I must have made things incredibly awkward for you. And I'm sorry, William- really, I am! It's just... I know that you love her, and she's the centre of your desires, and your whole world revolves around her and bla-di-bla-bla... but, I really didn't like the way she was treating you," I finished in a garbled rush, glancing up at him sheepishly through my eyelashes. William removed his glasses, and began cleaning them with a small handkerchief he produced from his waistcoat pocket. He appeared to be deep in thought.

"Please, do not apologize for caring, Elizabeth. Other than my mother, I have rarely witnessed someone do something which demonstrated such... such _care_ for me. And for that, I am truly, truly grateful," he said solemnly, eyes bright and brimming with admiration.

_So, he's... thanking me? For getting pissy with the woman he loves?! It's like I can do no wrong!_

_And neither can he. God, the man is so frightfully good and pure and **right** in every single way, it just... scares me. Especially when I remember who he's going to become._

"However, although Cecily may appear rather... brash, at times-"

"Understatement of the century!" I scoffed.

"-I know her heart. And I know that, with time, she will learn to love me as much as I... oh Heavens, what am I even saying?!" William's voice suddenly switched from gushy and adoring to a sardonic growl eerily reminiscent of my former vampire lover. "I don't have a chance in... in _Hell_ with Cecily! I am so far beneath her, that she barely even registers my presence. That's why I may have seemed shocked somewhat today, when she was suddenly paying me so much attention. God, it was almost_ luxury_! Yet," his wistful smile morphed into a frown, "the reasons behind this change in behaviour are utterly beyond my comprehension!"

"Do you not think that maybe... maybe she was jealous?" I offered gently.

"I'm sorry, but I don't quite follow," William replied, his face a picture of confusion. "You think that Cecily was..._ jealous?_"

"Yeah. Jealous of the fact that she is so used to being the centre of your attention, yet for once, your attentions were actually focused on me, not her."

William's unreadable expression made me launch into Buffy Panic mode.

"Not that I'm saying you _were_ or anything! Y-you probably weren't focused on me at all- it was more a case of 'Hi, Buffy! Welcome back to my humble abode!' than actually giving a-"

"...Buffy?"

_Oh. Crap._

_His face isn't just a picture of confusion any more. It's a freaking grand masterpiece._

"Um... yeah, sorry- that's just a, um... a nickname! Yeah, it's a nickname that was given to me back home, by my friends and family. I know it probably sounds stupid to you, but..."

"Heavens no! Why, it is a splendid name!"

'_Splendid'? Well, I suppose that's better than when Spike called it 'stupid'..._

"Very unique, and most curious. I think it suits you," he said shyly, replacing his glasses with a faint blush.

"I suppose I should take that as a compliment!" I laughed.

"Would anything I say to you ever_ not_ be a compliment?" he chuckled in return, his blush deepening.

"You never know, William, everything you say to me could be a string of insults in disguise," I teased, knowing he would take it literally.

"I would never insult you, Elizabeth!" he cried indignantly, fulfilling my predictions- to my increasing amusement. "On my honour, I would _never_ say a bad word against you. And if anyone ever did, I would..." he trailed off, noticing my coy smile. "...oh. _Oh!_" Realization dawned upon him, and he cradled his face in his hands. "You must think I am a right fool!"

"I think you are many things, William, but you are certainly no fool."

He dared to peek at me through his fingers, and when he saw the sincerity on my face, he broke out into a wide, boyish grin- one which I knew so well.

"In that case, all is well again."

We shared a brief, intimate moment of comfortable silence, until I heard the words which would change everything.

"It's strange..."

"What is?" I asked fondly.

"How long it has been since we met. Why, it has only been a short week! Does it feel longer to you, also?"

"Yup, it really does!" I answered truthfully- although lying about my other reason for feeling like I'd known him for a_ lot_ longer.

"And despite having been infatuated with the woman for years upon years now... Cecily just doesn't _understand_ me the way you do, Elizabeth. In fact, I don't think anybody ever has, nor have I ever enjoyed the company of someone as much as I do yours."

_That was it._

_The earnest smile, the nervously fiddling hands, the stray curl falling into his shining eyes... it was all far too much for me. Despite my desperate attempts to remind myself of what it was I had to do to this man in order to fulfill my mission, I couldn't ignore how my heart clenched at the very thought of it, or how I could barely suppress the urge to go and hug him; to hold him close and tell him how I felt exactly the same way._

_Way to go, Buffy, you're now officially screwed. You're becoming far too attached to your victim._


	6. Out for a walk, bitch

I lazily fanned myself with the practically blank piece of parchment, taking a break from writing utter crap about 'creatures of the night causing me plight'. A born poet, I was not. As, although I was trying my best to impress William, who was watching me tentatively, all I could really focus on at that moment was the sun streaming through the window.

_God, it's so freaking hot. I thought England was supposed to always be dull and rainy and cold..._

On the contrary, seeing as when I arrived here it was June 1880, it was now nearing July- and it definitely felt every inch like an American summer.

"Elizabeth, I was wondering if, um..." William spoke in a soft voice, fiddling with the buttons on his waistcoat.

"...Yes?" I prompted, pausing mid-fan to cast fond eyes upon his fumbling form.

"W-would you like to go for a walk?" he stuttered, fidgeting next to me on the sofa.

_Well, whatever it is. It certainly looks like a sofa, but that sounds far too modern for the Victorian era..._

"A walk?" I repeated questioningly, allowing my make-shift fan to flutter to the floor.

_"Out. For. A. Walk... Bitch." Oh, the hilarious irony._

"Yes... we don't have to, of course- I simply thought that, given the lovely weather, you would perhaps enjoy going outside, as opposed to me keeping you indoors all day," he blurted out in a garbled rush, wide, innocent eyes searching mine hopefully. "But, again, it is entirely your choice what we do. It was merely a suggestion..."

"I'd love to go for a walk with you, William," I beamed in response. His tensed shoulders instantly relaxed, and his whole face seemed to light up.

"Really?"

"Of course... that would be great! I'm not gonna lie to you, I was kinda hoping that you'd have something like this in mind. After all, it's such gorgeous weather today!"

"I know! The sun rarely makes such a prominent appearance here in London... not that I'm complaining at all- it is truly glorious!" he replied happily, getting to his feet.

"Aw, yay! I'm so glad you're a sunny person too! Some people are all about the doom, gloom and storm clouds..." I giggled, as William clasped my hands, pulling me up to join him.

"Well, seeing as we both share a love for the more_ pleasant_ type of weather," he grinned, "let us make the most of it!" He then realized that he was still holding onto my hands, and let go abruptly. I felt a familiar, unexplained ache at the loss of his touch. "Shall I ask Cook to prepare us a picnic? I know the perfect spot where we could sit..." he proposed with an anxious, unsure expression.

_...How?! How in the world can such a shy, modest, self-deprecating sweetheart become a cocky, charming Ladies' Man who's every word- and every move- oozes sex appeal?_

_God, it's beyond me._

"That would be lovely!" I smiled reassuringly, putting my curious thoughts to one side. "I'll just wait here for you, and, uh... continue writing my poem! Ya know, I really think I'm making progress here!"

_Okay, that may have been the teeniest, tiniest white lie..._

But William didn't seem to notice. He tilted his head slightly, his chiseled, handsome face radiant with happiness. "Wonderful! I promise to return to you presently, Elizabeth," he proclaimed giddily, before dashing off towards the kitchens.

_He. Is. So. Darn. Cute._

_Although, that head-tilt does keep reminding me of Spike. Bad, bad Buffy..._

But thankfully, he did return to me 'presently', as it was only about five minutes before he came strolling back into the living room, laden with a large, wicker picnic basket in his left hand. He then offered me his right arm, which I happily linked through mine. And as we walked- out of the door, down the cobbled path, and into the big, wide world- I secretly relished the feeling of his warmth, strength and nearness.

After about ten minutes of searching for William's 'perfect spot', with flowing conversation and constant laughter along the way, we eventually reached our destination. It was a grassy meadow lined with leafy, blossoming trees, on the edge of a riverbank.

_William's right. It really is perfect._

"Is this... sufficient?" William asked, smiling shyly.

"God, it's more than sufficient! William, it's... it's beautiful," I breathed in awe, grabbing his hand and guiding him towards the nearest tree. He laughed at my enthusiasm, as I took a dazed seat beneath the tall oak, pulling him down next to me. My senses had been deliciously assaulted by the warmth of the sun rays peeking through the branches above us, combined with a cool, gentle breeze; the subtle scents of flowers and dewy grass; soft, sweet birdsong accompanied by the faint sound of trickling water... it was as if we'd stepped into a fairytale.

And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, William opened the picnic basket, presenting an array of enticing food. I greedily eyed the feast of chicken drumsticks, bread rolls, slithers of cheese, strawberries, grapes, biscuits and iced buns; almost squealing with delight when he then produced a filled, heated teapot paired with two china teacups. It was no wonder he'd carried the basket so carefully...

_And to think, I've been in England all this time and have not yet sampled a cup of tea!_

William began pouring tea into my cup, insisting I tell him exactly how I liked it. I noticed that he had his tea far stronger than I did- as I requested he fill practically half of my cup with milk (brought in a cute little lidded jug), with two and a half spoons of sugar. I still felt like a 'Lady' though, as I regally sipped my tea, attempting to suppress a giggle.

"So, tell me the truth. Does this picnic cater to your tastes?" William questioned lightly, taking a bite of his chicken drumstick. I couldn't help but smile at the memory of Spike's odd obsession with Buffalo wings, thinking how these were probably the closest thing to that favourite food of his in this time period. He even _ate_ the same as Spike; gnawing away at the chicken, barely chewing it before swallowing, and then occasionally licking his lips with that long, pink tongue...

I quickly chased away any inappropriate thoughts, before responding. "Hell yeah!" I idly picked up a strawberry, sucking on its sweetness. "Everything is so, _so_ delicious. Especially these!" I gestured towards the scarlet fruit, before popping the rest into my mouth. "You should try one!"

"If you say so," William chuckled, shifting to a kneeling position in order to reach the basket. "In all honesty, I've always been rather partial to sweet fruits..."

"Nuh-uh!" I scolded, swatting his hand away. "Let _me_ feed you." Before he could protest, I picked up the largest, juiciest strawberry, and held it up to his lips. He paused briefly, and then took a tentative bite.

"_Mmm..._" His subconscious, low moans of pleasure sent shivers up my spine, and heat pooling between my thighs. "They really _are_ delicious!" he murmured, chewing, as his mouth left the moist fruit.

"Told you so!" I giggled, teasingly probing his lips apart with the remainder of the strawberry.

"Excuse me, but I will eat when I please, Miss. Summers," he replied with a devilish smirk, before devouring the rest of the fruit in seconds. I held the stalk dumbly in the air, as I became transfixed by the traces of juicy moisture staining his lips. I just wanted to kiss those lips, to feel their fullness and taste his sweetness and... _oh!_

Without warning, William suddenly ran his tongue across my sticky fingers, teasingly licking away any remnants of strawberry juice.

_Oh my._

I jokingly pushed him away, and we fell into a giggling heap, as I tried to ignore the feelings- the sheer _sensations_ which had just overwhelmed me.

_No, Buffy. Bad thoughts. Bad, **bad** thoughts..._

By the time our laughter had subsided, we found ourselves comfortably positioned so that we lay side by side on the grass, facing each other. And we stayed that way for quite some time, talking endlessly about everything and nothing.

"I am_ not_ a control freak!" I protested, mid-way through the conversation. "I just... _like_ to be in control, okay?" The utter stupidity of my own statement made me collapse into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

"Whatever you say," William smirked in response.

"Seriously though, the whole gang back home would be totally screwed if I wasn't so super-organized..."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that," he appeased softly. "But it sounds like you have the entire world resting upon your shoulders, Elizabeth. Do you not ever feel the need to sit back, and let somebody else take the reins?"

"Believe me, I do! But if ever I'm in need of any kind of support, I'm always comforted by the knowledge that I'm surrounded by people who are prepared to give it."

_Especially Spike. If ever I was in a crisis, it was him who I'd run to... the Big Bad vampire who I knew would always be there to catch me when I fall._

And right now, it felt like I was falling- no, _drowning-_ in the azure pools of his eyes.

"Good. I feel much better knowing that you receive the support, care and attention you deserve... wherever you are," William smiled sincerely, before furrowing his eyebrows in sudden thought. I watched with faint amusement, as he sat up fully, reaching into his waistcoat pocket.

"What's that?" I asked, gesturing towards the crumpled piece of parchment he'd produced, and was currently attempting to smooth out.

"It's just... scribblings," he muttered shyly, eyes flickering over the page.

"_Scribblings,_ huh?" I questioned with a disbelieving smirk. "Don't give me that crap, William, I can see straight through you! I bet it's another of your poetic works of art-"

William snorted. "Why yes, of course it is. I produce_ 'poetic works of art'_ on a daily basis..."

_Was that... sarcasm?_

"So, are you gonna read it to me or not?" I demanded with a wry grin.

"In a moment or so, perhaps." William replied, unfazed, folding the parchment in half, and setting it down gently beside him. "Could we have a... a _chat_ first?"

"Aw, you remembered!" I squealed, bouncing upright with a beaming smile. "I am very, _very_ proud."

"So you should be!" he grinned in response. "I am slowly, but surely blossoming beneath your nurturing hands..."

"Gosh, you really should consider writing poetry!" I teased with a playful nudge.

"_Poetry?_ Why, the thought never once crossed my mind!" William joked back, not yet brave enough to return my gesture.

_God, this is weird. We're laughing and joking like we're from the same time period or something!_

"However, on a more serious note," William asserted, despite his lips twitching betrayingly. "I do genuinely want to talk to you, Elizabeth."

"Go on..." I encouraged, shifting forward so that we were even closer together- our foreheads practically touching.

"Well, I, um... I do apologize for expelling all of this upon you-"

"Don't apologize, idiot!"

"But it's just that I... well, I'm just worried."

"_Worried?_" My face morphed into one of confusion.

"Y-yes. Worried... and a little scared. Although you can't tell anyone_ that,_ of course," he added lightly, although his tone remained ambiguously dark.

"Why? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I honestly have no reason to complain!" William quickly reassured. "But, I'm just..." He took a deep breath. "I- I know that my mother is dying. And although it is a reality which I have to face, I can't... it is just d-difficult for me to comprehend. The very idea of being without her, being alone in this world..." William's voice cracked, and he ducked his head, as if concealing unshed tears.

"Oh, _William,_" I put a comforting arm around his shoulders. "I'm so sorry. Really I... what is it? What's _doing_ this to her?"

"Tuberculosis."

_Oh god. Looks like my suspicions were correct._

William glanced up at me, determination etched upon his features with the intense effort not to cry. "Th-they couldn't find a cure. They think it's only a matter of time, before-" He trailed off, words not necessary. I tightened my grip on his shoulders, running my fingers soothingly over tensed muscle.

"Oh god, I- I don't know what to say... it's almost as if anything I do come out with will be petty, and meaningless, and... _insignificant,_ in comparison to all these things you must be feeling right now. Because I've been there before. I know exactly how it feels and... all I can say is that I am so, _so_ sorry. You are the last person to deserve any of this, William, especially as it is something entirely beyond your control."

"See, maybe in some ways, it _is_ good to be a control freak," William sniffed, rewarding me with a wobbly smile.

"Maybe," I laughed sadly, fighting back tears of my own. "But, you were wrong about one thing."

William tilted his head to one side. "What was that?"

"You are most certainly not alone."


	7. Hide your blushing eyes

All traces of sadness were instantly banished from his face, and replaced with a tentative smile. "Thank you, Elizabeth. I know that now," he reassured tremulously, whilst remaining cocooned within my partial embrace. However, the tender moment was broken by him jerking away suddenly, clearing his throat. "_Anyway_, on a slightly lighter note... may I read you my poem?"

"Oh, yeah... yeah, I'd love to hear it!" I lay back slightly, supporting my weight with both hands.

"Right. Well," William cleared his throat again, shakily retrieving the folded piece of parchment. He shot me a timid, apprehensive look, readjusting his glasses in the way he always does when he's nervous. "Shall I begin?"

"_Please,_" I affirmed with an encouraging smile. William nodded hesitantly, clearing his throat for the third time. My heart felt ready to burst from my chest. Although, I have a distinct feeling that it actually did, as soon he recited the very first line.

"My ray of sunshine, I calleth thee,  
Rare burst of light, a name hath she.  
A name as beautiful as her face,  
Mirroring a soul so full of grace.  
Entering a life, once cold, dark and bleak,  
Thus warming this heart, a heart which doth seek,  
To find its sole reason, to exist and to be:  
Through mistake or design, fate links thou with me.  
Yet, whilst thou art Heaven sent; too good to be true,  
I'm Hell-bound, falling sinfully in love with you."

"That was... _beautiful,_ William."

"Hardly!" William's laughter was shaky, nervous even.

"Would I ever lie to you?" I inquired coyly, with a quirked eyebrow.

William's apprehensive expression morphed into a mischievous grin. "Well..."

"Actually no, don't answer that question," I grimaced. "Seriously though, that was so... Hell, words can't even describe how beautiful it was - how _surreal_ it is to witness just how much someone can love another person, ya know? And to summarize those feelings in a poem like that, it's just..._ breathtaking_. I mean, God, what I'd give to have a man write such poems about _me!_ I'm telling you, William, she is one lucky lady!"

"Who is?" William's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Uhm... _Cecily,_ of course?" I supplied in my best 'duh' voice. "I'm only assuming you wrote this poem about her, seeing as pretty much every other poem of yours revolves around that bitch..."

"No," William stated simply.

"...Did I just say bitch? Gosh, what I really meant was_ beauty_-"

"-I meant 'no', in reference to what you actually said, as opposed to the childish name-calling."

Now it was my turn to be confused. _"Huh?"_

William sighed. "To put it bluntly- no, this poem was not written about Cecily."

"...It wasn't?"

"No... although, such a matter really isn't important-"

"Who's it written about then?" I leant forward curiously.

William hastily retrieved the poem from his lap, folding the parchment in half. "It doesn't matter," he mumbled, stuffing it hurriedly into his pocket.

_Weird._

"Fine, fine," I surrendered with an uncontrollable pout. William's eyes locked with mine, his face bearing an unfamiliar, unreadable expression.

_Really, **really** weird..._

"Although, I think we oughta make ourselves a deal," I grinned mischievously, a swift idea hatching in my head.

"God help me..." William murmured under his breath, clutching his heart in mock despair. I chuckled lightly, attempting to ignore the Spike-like undertones of those three little words.

_Oh, come on! Spike and William are like yin and yang._

Even though, of course, they are essentially the same person...

_Woah-oh, Buffy, stop right there! Don't even start comparing the two- it'll just make this whole situation even more confusing and... confused._

Shaking my head, as if to quell these intrusive thoughts, I spoke again in an over-bright tone. "Okay. Well, I pinkie promise to stop, erm, _harassing_ you- if, you come paddle with me!" I trilled with childlike excitement combined with teasing coyness.

William looked bewildered. "..._Paddle_, with you?"

_Jeez, he makes everything I say sound like some sort of brazen innuendo._

"Yeah, you know... frolic around in the river with me! And by that, I mean _friendly_ frolicking, of course," I added quickly, as I noticed the blush rising to his cheeks.

"Of course..." William echoed dumbly, shooting furtive glances at said river, and then back at me.

"C'mon!" I gave him a friendly shove, prompting him to stumble clumsily to his feet. Within milliseconds, I joined him, fixing him a dose of my best pleading puppy-dog face. "Pur-_leeeease..._"

"Very well," William sighed, removing his glasses, and placing them delicately in his jacket pocket.

"Yay!" I eagerly began discarding my shoes and stockings, before loosening my corset slightly. As I noticed William watching me intently, I paused, glancing up at him. "Oh, and in return, I promise to keep this," I gestured towards my mouth with a comic expression, "utterly, and eternally zipped."

"Chance would be a fine thing," William chuckled, bending down to unlace his shoes.

"Hey! No mocking. That wasn't part of the deal," I scowled, folding my arms.

"I apologize profusely," William proffered, eyes twinkling.

"Meh. I suppose I might be able to forgive you-"

"I am most glad!"

"-as long as you remove your jacket, so it's more acceptable for me to push you in the river."

William laughed. "I can assure you that such an event will not occur, however, I may remove the item regardless. It is _stifling_ out here!"

"Go for it! But you'd better hurry..."

"Why?" William eyed me wearily, sliding his suit jacket languidly off of one shoulder.

"Well, 'cos... I'm racin' ya!"

The giddy words had barely left my mouth before I bolted down the hill, laughing breathlessly as I sprinted towards the riverbank- our makeshift finish line. It wasn't long before I heard echoed laughter accompanied by panting breaths, thundering footsteps, and the uncharacteristically brash shout: "you little minx!". My Slayer-speed was often unusually matched by Spike's vampiric abilities, yet this time, he was merely human, so I easily won- splashing into the water with a triumphant cry. But despite being an ordinary, mortal being, William was still surprisingly fast, whippy and agile; boisterously launching into the river not long after me, and splashing my dress quite significantly in the process. I whipped my head around to gloat about my 'victory', yet found myself at a loss for words. William stood, panting for breath, clad in nothing more than dark, rolled-up trousers and a flimsy, white shirt. Like, a typical 'poet shirt' that's flatteringly fitting, yet still all loose and flowing and sexy...

_...Did I just say sexy? Ok, oops. Slip of the tongue._

Deciding to discard any questionable, unnamed feelings flitting round my mind, I focused instead on light annoyance at him for suddenly looking so god damned delicious. I therefore came to the quick conclusion to fulfill my vow, and push William into the river.

Unfortunately though, he sensed my upcoming rebellion; as I gave him a smug, almighty shove, he grabbed me firmly by the waist- pulling me down with him, much to my shrieking dismay. We both lay in the water, a heap of tangled limbs, initially stunned, yet simultaneously bursting into ruptures of laughter, literally shaking with mirth. I beat feebly against his chest, attempting to string a scolding sentence together, yet failed, due to the giggles uncontrollably bubbling up in my throat. Instead, I found myself mutely tracing idle patterns across his drenched shirt, the laughter-induced vibrations of his chest making the surprisingly pleasing sinewy muscles beneath accessible to my searching fingers. It was then, as our expelled humour eventually died down, a series of mutual realizations rushed to us both in quick succession.

_I have literally fallen on top of William, and am positioned astride him._

_To top this off, I am subconsciously stroking his chest. Which is practically exposed through the wetly translucent material._

_And... gahhh! Oh god. Oh crap. Oh my..._

_It has now become undeniably apparent that his trousers are suddenly far, **far **too tight for him..._

Yup. It looks like even the sweetest, purest, most innocent of men are capable of getting an inappropriately public, raging hard-on. Although, this one just so happened to be pressing quite prominently against my stomach...

We both moved at once. Well, I was prompted by William's wide-eyed whimper of realization, which led to me swiftly removing myself from him, to avoid any further embarrassment. He slowly got to his feet, cheeks burning.

"I... um, I do apologize for... for behaving in such an infantile manner," William mumbled sheepishly. I noticed how his hands were clasped firmly in front of his trousers.

"Ditto," I smirked, inwardly attempting to shake the whirlwind of feelings which had previously overcome me.

"Oh, this is all my fault," William sighed, chewing his bottom lip worriedly. "Your dress is practically ruined!"

"To be fair, I started it," I tittered weakly, glancing down at my soaking dress. "And hardly- it'll dry!" I finally dared to look directly at William, despite the flurry of unwanted thoughts invading my mind. I attempted to cast a critical eye over him, ready to claim that he'd ended up worse off than me in some way and hence, I was to blame. But the problem was... I'd suddenly lost the ability to speak.

_'Yin and yang'? Ok, I totally take that back... right now, William looks exactly like Spike._

His curly mop of hair was slicked back, sleek and dripping- fully exposing the sharp, chiseled angles of his face. The broad sunlight illuminated every sculpted feature, his cheekbones appearing even more prominent than usual. His glasses had earlier been discarded, revealing the dilated, stormy pools of his eyes. Sun-kissed skin was highlighted by crystal droplets of water which skimmed an idle path down his face, all the way to the creamy column of his throat. His soaked clothing stubbornly clung, leaving little to the imagination; his every movement shifted focus to the ripple of slender yet taut muscle- practically visible through the dripping, translucent linen. And his _lips._ As a result of the series of 'wet' events, they were moist, glistening, and curled into a delicious pout; a downward curve which was more likely due to him feeling embarrassed, as opposed to an attempt to seduce me... yet it certainly achieved the latter- enticing me with the ripe fullness of those lips, and the sinful secrets which I knew lay within...

_Ok, so I'm now officially in danger of entering a whole world of wrong._

_Although, the truth is, I'm only attracted to him because he resembles Spike more than usual..._

_Woah, hold up. That means that I'm specifically attracted to **Spike**... like, he's my type, or something. __Which, he isn't. Definitely, definitely not... he's a vampire, for crying out loud! And I'm the Slayer, so I** slay** vampires. Which means that I don't giddily fantasize about them as my perfect 'type' of guy.__  
_

_Anyway, that's besides the point. It's not even just a case of William looking like Spike... William **is** Spike._

But, of course, he lacked the moody smolder... the puffed-up, arrogant stance... the confident, commanding presence... and, the constant, cunning knowledge of exactly how he was making me feel.

William, however, remained naively unaware of the profound impact he was having upon me; my frantic, frivolous thoughts punctuated by my quickened breathing. Instead, he spoke again, in a voice which lacked any confidence or conviction, starkly contrasting with my sudden perception of him as a soaking-wet sex god.

_Hey, Buffy... don't you think it'd be a great idea to press pause on the 'inappropriate thoughts' button?_

"I still beseech you to forgive me, Elizabeth. My behaviour was inexcusable, and it will never happen again- you have my word!"

"Pffft," I tested out my vocal chords, thrilled that I was again capable of conversing. "Lighten up a bit! It was only a spot of water- it's not like it's gonna hurt anyone!" I teasingly preached, although I was entirely aware that that was not what he was really apologizing for.

"I suppose so..." William offered a shy smile, ducking his head. He then became uncharacteristically daring, and gently took hold of my hand. "In that case, would you care to 'paddle' with me, Elizabeth?"

Attempting feebly to ignore the butterflies which awakened in my stomach as soon as his hand closed over mine, I smiled in return. "Yup, great! Paddling sounds just... _great._" But as we strolled along, hand in hand, effortlessly regaining an unstilted rapport, I found myself wishing that I could erase the past couple of minutes, and the forbidden feelings which accompanied them. Because, they _were_ forbidden.

_God, it's always the same with him, isn't it? In one world, he's the stereotypical bad boy who you shouldn't have feelings for, but just... **do,** 'cos he's annoyingly impossible to resist. And in this world, he's pretty much too good to be true, yet still painfully, sinfully gorgeous. Not to mention the fact that me even thinking that completely contradicts the mission..._

I shuddered at the very thought of my _unthinkable_ mission, whilst my mind wistfully traveled back- or forward, in this case- to a time where everything was simpler somehow... yet just as confusing. For although my situation didn't involve a secret motive to kill Spike, our 'relationship' was definitely a sexy, sinful secret in itself.

* * *

_I stood on the balcony, supposedly alone- gazing out at the scene before me. A scene which I wasn't a part of._

_All my dearest friends crowded together beneath the bright, garish lights; talking, laughing, dancing... they looked so happy, so content. And I could have so easily joined in- forced a smile, hummed a tune, busted a few moves... but I just didn't feel like it. I didn't feel like I belonged in that world, as much as I tried to- as much as I desperately wanted to. No, that world was too harsh, too bright, too... **ordinary.**_

_I felt his presence before he even spoke. I knew that he was approaching me; slowly drawing out his steps with a seductive, predatory grace that was exclusively his. And then... then, I heard his voice. A low, sensual whisper which left my body on the brink of collapsing, exploding and weeping with want._

_"You see, you try to be with them," he began, sauntering up behind me, then leaning across to place a hand upon the bar, in cleverly close proximity to mine. I shuddered at the near contact. "But you always end up in the dark," he concluded matter-of-factly, his teasing voice layered with promise, sex and sin. "With me." By this point, his mouth was about an inch away from my ear, and lowered to a dangerous, husky whisper. _

_"What would they think of you, if they found out?" Ah. A mocking question which we both knew the answer to. "All the things you've done..." _

_God, that voice alone was enough to undo me. So teasing, so tempting, so **toxic...** and then, of course, there was his **scent.** The addictive aroma of leather, the faint sweetness of alcohol combined with the occasional whiff of stale cigarette smoke, encompassed by a subtle yet heady cologne; it was his signature scent, which screamed out 'I'm a bad, dangerous man'. But oh, he smelled so darn **good.** I just wanted to inhale him, to breathe him in- to feel him inside me, filling me, consuming me..._

_"Imagine it, Slayer." Cool, dexterous fingers assaulted my heated flesh, as his hand softly traced my bare shoulder. My breathing accelerated. "Imagine if they knew who you really were." I shut my eyes, attempting to resist- to bite back the lustful moans which threatened to spill from my lips, as that large, silver-ringed hand I knew so well made the skillful, deadly descent down my arm; tracing my waist, caressing my hip... until it reached its nether destination. Long, talented fingers grasped the modest skirt which concealed my trembling form, lifting it up brazenly._

_"Don't," I whispered tremulously. He wasn't making this whole 'resisting' thing any easier..._

_"Stop me."_

_I didn't. I **couldn't.** I was paralyzed in the heated haze of pleasure, having fully passed the point of no return._


	8. Is everyone here very stoned?

After two sweet, satisfyingly sunny hours together, William and I made the mutual decision to return home. Meaning_ his_ home, of course; I was still checking in every night at a rundown hotel, which was hardly a Victorian version of 'The Ritz'. But meh, who am I to complain- it was... _liveable._ Only, I always found myself yearning to stay with the Pratt's as much as possible, seeing as in comparison, they practically lived in a _palace._

_And when I'm with them, it truly feels like home..._

But _anyway_, we decided that, seeing as our previously soaked selves had sufficiently dried- and the blue, cloudless sky was streaked with pink, signifying dusk- it would be best for us to pack up and head off home. Although, beforehand, William insisted that he "must pop into the Library to return a book", which was apparently "due today, and it'd be ever so troublesome for the poor Librarian if it were late!". Despite my half-hearted protest that "the Librarian _honestly_ won't give a damn", I couldn't help finding William's fierce morality incredibly endearing- not to mention the adorable fact that, yes... William had, indeed, remembered to pack the book in the picnic basket, beneath the actual picnic itself.

_It's funny how William's love for books is somewhat reminiscent of Spike __religiously_ watching that favourite TV show of his every week... damn, what was it called again?

We'd eventually trekked all the way into the centre of the village, where we made two stops: firstly, to return his book, and secondly, at the florist, where William purchased a small bouquet of sunflowers. He later told me that they were Anne's favourite flower, and that he often bought them for her to 'brighten her day'. My response was about five different kinds of 'aw' sound.

_**Passions.** That's what that stupid show was called! God, the amount of times I was forced to sit through an episode whilst crashing at his crypt... although, I have to admit, it did grow on me. And Spike's subconsciously muttered comments throughout- mostly him sulking about twists in the plotline which he didn't approve of- **were** kinda_ cute...

We began journeying back to the Pratt household; a small grin playing on my lips as I reminisced, replaying fond memories in my head. This led to me zoning out briefly, whilst William, unfazed, continued his spirited chatter. However, a sudden silence snapped me straight back to reality, as the soft, enthused sound of his voice had ground to an abrupt, unexpected halt. I glanced over at William in confusion. His previously quick, confident strides had become slow, stilted- timid even. Horror washed over his features, and he visibly gulped. Springing into action, I whipped my head around to face the pathway ahead of us, attempting to find the cause of his discomfort.

_And beat the crap out of whoever, or whatever it is._

But sadly, there wasn't anything... _beatable_ in sight. All I saw was a meager, approaching gaggle of men, who wore identically flamboyant attire, and matching expressions of snooty disdain. A couple of tittering women sashayed amongst them, clutching the male arms on offer as if their very lives depended on it. And unfortunately, I recognized one of them...

_Ah, how I've missed that misleadingly beautiful face._

"Look who it is," I nudged William, bitterness lacing my voice. He didn't respond. In fact, he wasn't even looking at Cecily, who was promptly ignoring him. Instead, his wide, weary eyes were fixated upon someone else- someone who stalked at the forefront of the group, grinning maliciously. Someone, who looked oddly, _unpleasantly_ familiar...

"Nice flowers you've got there, William, old chap!" that someone affirmed mockingly, revealing a row of small, pearly white teeth.

_Why the hell do I recognize this asshole?_

"Y-yes, I suppose they are rather lovely..." William replied uneasily, much to the vocalized amusement of the group.

"Bit of a sissy, aren't you?" the familiar man sneered.

_Ha! Says the guy with a moustache that's curled up at the ends to the extent of suspicion..._

The smarmy, smirking hypocrite began circling William, glancing back at the others, as if requesting approval. William stood, rooted to the spot, attempting to converse in a calm, firm manner.

"Why, no, Vincent... I'm not!"

"Then why is it, pray tell, that your pride and joy is clearly produced by a _bouquet?" _The man who I now knew to be called 'Vincent' snatched the flowers out of William's protesting hands, which eventually dropped to his sides in limp defeat. The entire group rewarded Vincent by spluttering; an explosion of practiced, exaggerated laughter. I clenched my fists, feebly attempting to restrain myself from slapping some sense, manners and decency into these obnoxious pricks. I knew that eventually, I would have to at least _say_ something, but for now, it was pretty obvious that none of them had even registered my presence; they were far too focused on their victim. And I wanted to see how William reacted, on his own... for I knew exactly how _someone _would react, if faced with the unlikelihood of an identical situation.

_Spike would raise an amused eyebrow, whilst offering some sarky response- his dark, angelic beauty morphing into a devilish, deadly grin. He would then proceed to send Vincent flying, pin him down to the ground with a satisfied sneer, and then brutally drain him dry._

_In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if that's what he actually did, as soon as he was turned._

But William... well, other than readjusting his glasses about five times in the past minute, he'd barely moved a muscle. He stood silently, shooting pleading looks towards Cecily, who surprisingly wasn't laughing like the rest of them. However, she didn't dare meet his eyes. On the contrary, she was pointedly looking in the opposite direction.

"Speak up, William!" jeered another pompous-looking man, who wore a ridiculous top hat.

"They are for m-my... my mother," William stammered. "Please... may I have them back?" He attempted to reach for the flowers, only for Vincent to teasingly toss the bouquet to one of his friends, who caught them deftly with a raucous chortle. I felt my eyes well up with tears.

_This is **bullying. **_

"Of course you may," Vincent sniggered, before nodding pointedly at the man who was holding the flowers at arm's length. To my utter horror, the bastard saw this as a cue to rip the beautiful sunflowers into shreds.

"Here you are," he smirked, handing William the pile of dismembered stalks and golden petals. Words escaped me, as I watched William's face fall; the petals slipping through his fingers.

"You see, William, you're letting us all down," Vincent continued haughtily, as if nothing had happened. I literally had to bite my tongue. "Buying _flowers _for your mother... I feel for the woman- really, I do. Especially seeing as your father is somewhat _absent..." _his eyes flickered cruelly, "_you _are the man of the household. And what is it that you do all day?" He paused, as if waiting for an answer. William simply stared at the floor, clutching the few remaining stems in his shaking hands. "Write bloody awful poetry, that's what!"

"It's no wonder we call him William the Bloody!" The collection of vile human beings burst into a simultaneous series of guffaws.

_So **that's **where the name originally came from! William the Bloody..._

_If that's not irony, I don't know what is._

The crushing realization that William was utterly incapable of sticking up for himself, combined with the bizarre tragedy of witnessing the past form of _Spike_- of all people- being trampled upon by a bunch of conceited _pigs,_ resulted in my inability to contain the Slayer within me any longer. I was officially in _Buffy-Kill _mode. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

"Yeah, well, at least William has the integrity to do something _productive _with his time, as opposed to... wait, what exactly is it you're doing again? Other than being pathetic, self-righteous _bullies _who's collective existence is pretty much polluting the earth?"

I heard the echo of my harsh, resonant words, as I was met with a contrasting wall of silence. Half a dozen pairs of eyes swiveled over to me in shock. One of the poor guys was even _gaping. _

_Well, it looks like they've finally realized I'm here...  
_  
"You don't have an answer, huh? That's a real shame... looks like we'll just have to be on our way then," I concluded, my biting words dripping with sarcasm. "Don't want you wasting any more of our time." After one last hard-eyed glare at the bunch of clones, I gently took hold of William's arm, turning round to face him. Eyes of emerald green met ocean blue. His expression was one of shock, embarrassment and... _awe. _

_"_Thank you_,_ Elizabeth," he breathed, his voice a soft, precious whisper- a secret only for me to hear. But someone was eavesdropping.

"So, _that'_s your name, is it not? _Elizabeth..._" I whipped my head around impatiently, scrutinizing the man I'd grown to hate within the space of five minutes. "Feisty thing, you are!" My response was simply to look him up and down scathingly; he was tall and robust, with hair that was a dark, muddy brown, neatly parted at one side. He had small, piggy eyes, and a wide, smug mouth- with a moustache so groomed that, in my opinion, it was practically laughable.

_And **he** dares make William's life a living Hell? William... a man who belongs in Heaven, if anywhere. Wherever the pure souls go._

The sudden fierce protectiveness, anger and sheer disbelief which consumed me caused me to shut out the droning of Vincent's voice. But then, he said something which caught my attention.

"In fact, I somehow recall meeting a woman the other week, who was almost _equally _as feisty as you appear to be!" Our eyes met, realization slowly dawning upon us both. "Cripes - it _was _you!" He pointed an accusatory finger at my corset-clad form, which I swatted away viciously- resulting in audible gasps from our 'audience'.

_Mhm. Patriarchal society, my ass._

"Oh my, this is too priceless!" he guffawed, wiping imaginary laughter-induced tears from his eyes. "You were asking for William the _Bloody! _Why, this all makes perfect sense now, does it not, Elizabeth?" I was met with a smile so sickening that I genuinely thought I was gonna hurl.

"The only thing that makes sense right now is the fact that William and I," I took hold of his arm again, a little more firmly this time, "are leaving. I hope you all have a thoroughly... _un-_spiffing day!" I finished, sticking my chin in the air defiantly, before marching off, dragging a stunned William in tow. He remained speechless until we reached the street corner; the previous conversation nothing more than a vague, unpleasant memory.

"..._Un-_spiffing?"

"It was a play on words," I huffed. "Sounded better in my head, okay..."

"No, no!" William stopped suddenly, blocking my path with two hands firmly placed upon my shoulders. "Everything you just said... everything you_ did,_" he breathed, eyes shining with wonderment. "I... I could not have _imagined _anything better!" I folded my arms, smiling fondly.

"Oh, really?"

"Most _definitely_. You... you encapsulated all that I wish I was- all I wish I had the strength to be!" he proclaimed, voice impassioned. "You do not _understand, _Elizabeth, how many times I have replayed such scenarios in my head... wishing I could have done something differently; been braver, stronger, _better-"_

"But you _can _be! All you need to do is show them that they can't treat you like that, 'cos you won't _let _them! Stick up for yourself. I know you have the strength within you, William... you've just gotta believe it."

"But, Elizabeth, I can't-"

"_I_ believe in you." I took hold of his hand, voice firm, sincerity illuminating my features. No more words were spoken; we simply continued our journey back home, hands entwined the entire way.

* * *

"Would either of you care for a cup of tea?" William asked brightly, rising from his seat with furtive glances at both Anne and I.

"That would be lovely, darling," Anne replied, smiling warmly. I'd noticed how recently, her voice had become weaker; a hoarse shadow of what it had previously been, when we first met. Wrapped in worried thoughts, I almost forgot to answer.

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, tea would be great, thanks!" My own smile was strained.

_Spike never told me what happened to his mother. Although, I guess, I never really asked, did I? _

"Wonderful!" William beamed. "I will serve your tea within the next few minutes, ladies."

"Gosh, aren't we spoiled!" Anne chuckled, catching my eye. I returned her teasing smile wholeheartedly.

_I hope there's suddenly some random miracle, which makes her magically get better. I couldn't bear to watch her die... and God, what would it do to William?_

"Don't I always spoil you, mother?" he grinned, eyes glinting.

"Well, I_ do_ say that I'm the luckiest woman in the world!"

_It would destroy him.  
_  
With a parting, ecstatic smile, William scampered out of the room._  
_

Anne gazed after him fondly. "Ah, my William, such a charming young man."

"That, he definitely is!" I agreed with a smile. "You know, Anne, I think you should be very proud of him."

"I am! Heavens, there is no _end _to my pride. It may appear that I am overly doting, but..."

"Not at all!" I reassured.

"...But I've found that William has always been the type of boy who craves affection, yet is often unable to see it when it stares him straight in the face. He _needs_ to be constantly reassured of just how much he is loved."

My heart caught in my throat, and I found myself blinking back tears; remembering a vampire who broke the boundaries of the undead by demonstrating similar traits.

"You see, Elizabeth," Anne continued, unaware of the devastating effect her words were having upon me. "My son is a... a _fragile _boy. He's never found it easy to make friends... for the world is full of cruel, cruel people, who are far too quick to take advantage of his kind, trusting nature."

_So, as a human, the goodness in his heart left him lonely, mocked and used. Maybe that's why Spike decided to become so bad...  
_  
"He's always attempted to conceal his sadness with a smile, for my sake," Anne explained, her voice shaky with the combination of illness and emotion. "But deep down, I knew that he was never truly _happy..._ until now." Her familiar blue eyes blazed into mine, alight with a sudden spark of... _hope?_

_Is this something to do with **me?** Oh god, please say it isn't..._

"I'm not sure if you're fully aware, but my William has grown very... _fond _of you," she confirmed, clearly choosing her words carefully. "Ever since you walked into his life... he's become a changed man. To tell you the truth, I don't think I have ever seen him so _genuinely _happy!"

_What have I done?! This was **so **not the plan... I was supposed to become 'acquainted' with him, not change his whole damn __life! Apart from through his impending death, of course. Which I honestly can't see happening anytime soon, especially if... ugh!_

_Why is everything she's saying making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside?_

Although, any confusingly fuzzy feelings were washed away by the second wave of threatening tears; produced by the beautiful, deteriorating woman sat beside me speaking once again._  
_

"However, despite my sincerest apologies for involving you in such... _personal _matters," Anne tentatively began, reaching across the table to take my hands in hers.

"Don't you dare even _think _about apologizing!" I interrupted gently, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm all ears."

"Well, to put it bluntly, Elizabeth... I'm running out of time. The doctor says that I... I am _fatally _ill- that they cannot find a cure, and it could only be a matter of months. _Weeks _even!" Words rushed from her lips like a continuous waterfall of tragedy. "And, although I do not fear for myself in the slightest, I fear greatly for my son. I... I cannot b-bear the thought of leaving him alone in the world, and I-"

Anne was interrupted by a brutal coughing fit, combined with her heartbroken sobs. I rushed to her side, rubbing her back soothingly, before briefly disregarding propriety and pulling her into a gentle embrace, hugging her as if she were made of glass.

"Shhh, it's okay," I soothed, holding the broken woman in my arms. "I promise you that he won't _ever _be alone," I added without thinking, utterly caught within the potent, personal moment. By this point, Anne's coughs had subsided, and she was merely crying.

"Really? Do you... do you promise?" she sniffed, retracting herself slightly from my comforting hug. I moved to retreat back to my seat, remembering how inappropriate such behaviour was in the Victorian era, yet was stilled by Anne's hands, which clutched mine desperately. "Will you look after him, when I'm gone?" I looked at the woman who eerily resembled the vampire- the _man _I knew so well. I looked at the stray grey-blonde curls which clung to her wet cheeks, the tears which streamed from her pleading eyes, the lips which parted slightly in anticipation and wonder. As tears sprung to my own eyes, I knew that I couldn't say no - when in reality, I was faced with the painful knowledge that I was sent here with orders to do the exact opposite of what she was asking. But still, at this moment in time- and deep in my heart- I couldn't refuse.

"Of course I'll look after him," I replied tremulously. "Anne, I assure you that your son will never have to be alone again."

The fragile moment of tender words, clasped hands and mutual tears was suddenly broken by William's cheery voice echoing down the corridor.

"At your service, I present to you... two piping hot cups of tea!"


	9. Every night I save you

I spent the next couple of days wearing a false smile, whilst being secretly suffocated by my ever-present, inner turmoil. The realization of how much William relied on me- naive to the ulterior motive which wasn't even my own- literally broke my heart. And then, there was the promise I made to his mother... his _mother- _the most important woman in his life. What possessed me to tell her that I'd look after him?! Pity? Guilt? Or perhaps, the fact that it was a lie which, deep down, I secretly longed to be the truth.

_Regardless, killing her son isn't exactly gonna fulfill that promise, is it?_

I angrily cast aside any mocking thoughts referring to the reality of my mission. All I knew was that it didn't _have _to happen any time soon. I mean, it's not like they gave me a _time _limit or anything! Although, I was fully aware that the longer you played with time, the worse the consequences could potentially be. But, I still couldn't help praying that I'd find another way.

_There **has **to be another way..._

"You've become awfully quiet, Elizabeth. Are you alright?" William asked kindly, utterly oblivious to my twisted thoughts. I blinked, feeling the real world come flooding back abruptly.

"Me? Oh, I'm fine! Absolutely, utterly _fine."_ I made a jokey show of surveying our surroundings._ "_So long as there's something alcoholic nearby..."

At my request, we'd taken an evening trip to the local tavern, despite William's reluctant confession that it wasn't somewhere he would 'typically' visit. In all honesty, I wasn't really surprised. However, I was intrigued to see the Victorian version of the Bronze... and, well, I also _really _needed a strong drink to stifle my thoughts. William laughed good-naturedly as he led me to one of the tables, chivalrously pulling out a chair and beckoning me to sit.

"Would you care for a drink, Elizabeth?"

_"Please,"_ I replied with a grateful smile, sinking into the seat he proffered. "Right now, a drink sounds _more _than agreeable..."

"In that case, I will be back in a mere moment!" he exclaimed cheerily, seeming oddly ecstatic at the prospect of buying me a drink.

_Could he **be **any cuter?_

Apparently, he could. For as he began walking away, he suddenly paused, whipping round to face me with a furrowed brow. "Oh dear, how rude of me! I almost forgot to ask... um, are there any beverages that you have acquired a particularly fond taste for?"

"Nah, I honestly don't mind, just... surprise me!"

William laughed. "Well, I will most certainly try!" One last sunny smile was sent in my direction, before he turned on his heel and began heading hastily towards the bar. I then heard a faint 'excuse me', followed by a muffled 'pardon me' as he attempted to politely weave his way through the crowd.  
_  
Okay. Official cuteness overload..._

Despite being momentarily distracted by the adorable lack of Spike-like swagger gracing his lolloping steps, I was quick to notice the rowdy gaggle of young men who were gathered at another table across the room. One of which, who had a nauseatingly familiar moustache. And was looking directly at me, with a smug, slimy smirk plastered on his face.

_Not him._

_Not today._

_I am **so** not in the mood for a public brawl..._

"_Elizabeth!_ What an unexpected pleasure! It appears we meet again," Vincent slurred, taking a swig from his tankard. "Surely, it must be fate!"

"Nope. Just bad timing," I responded dryly, inwardly praying that he'd lose interest before William returned. 'Cos if Vincent even _attempted_ to make a public mockery of him, he was gonna have to be brutally introduced to Buffy the bully slayer. Who I didn't reckon he'd regard as an 'unexpected pleasure' in any way, shape or form.

"But, alas!" Vincent continued dramatically, choosing to ignore my sarky comment. "Our Juliet appears to have been abandoned by her simpering Romeo!"

_Ok_,_ so... I've changed my mind. A public brawl **may** be a necessity. _

"Where is he? Writing a shockingly awful sonnet for his beloved?" Encouraged by the raucous snickering of his peers, Vincent rose ungracefully to his feet, tankard in hand. "God knows how you bear listening to that awful stuff, Elizabeth... I, for one, would rather have a railroad _spike_ through my head!" The cutting retort on the tip of my tongue was obliterated by laughter; mine, mingled with theirs. Although, I was laughing purely due to a hilarious, ironic realization.  
_  
So... **that's **where the whole 'I changed my name to Spike 'cos I have a thing for shoving railroad spikes into the brains of innocent civilians' hoopla came from?!  
__Well, congrats, Vince. You helped shape a vampiric legacy that terrorized the world for over a_ _century._

My worrying levels of amusement at the mental image of Vincent with a gaping hole in his forehead made me unaware of the man himself getting increasingly closer to me. That is, until he spoke, and I looked up- vaguely disappointed to see that his head was entirely hole-free.

"Besides, it is blindingly obvious that you need a _real _man," he leered, pulling me roughly to my feet.

"Uh, no thanks." I jerked away from him, wrinkling my nose in disgust. "That is, if your definition of a 'real' man is an obnoxious, pig-headed _bastard _like you!" I scoffed, earning a series of gasps from our growing audience. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw William approach, holding two brimming tankards and looking dumbfounded, to say the least.

Vincent simply laughed, staggering slightly. "Once again, you're ever so eager to show me your _feisty _side, aren't you?" I sensed William's eyes flickering between the two of us, and then heard him place the drinks down firmly on the nearest table, before pushing apologetically through the crowd. My heart sank. The last thing I wanted was for him to get humiliated again.

"Too much for you to handle? Aw, diddums," I sneered, beginning to purposefully stride towards the door, hoping that William would catch my drift and follow.

"On the contrary! One simply wonders whether you would be _quite_ so feisty when engaging in-"

_"Enough!" _The sound of that soft, silken voice uncharacteristically raised was enough to turn my head. William stood, directly in front of Vincent, his entire frame exuding anger, whilst his facial expression quickly melted into one of fearful regret, as all eyes had suddenly swiveled to him. The fact that Vincent was an inch or so taller than him didn't help matters, especially as he used this to his advantage- looking down upon him with smirking disdain. William cleared his throat, before repeating himself in a far softer, more cautious tone. "That is _quite_ enough-"

"Since when have you made all the rules, eh, Pratt?" Vincent cut in, his laughter holding a slightly menacing edge. I shot William pleading looks from where I stood, angling pointedly towards the door. He ignored my efforts, attempting to steadily hold Vincent's stare, although his nervous stutter betrayed him.

"Well, I- I-"

"Look at you! You're pathetic... a bloody awful poet who can't even string a _sentence_ together! And you call yourself a man," Vincent scoffed, looking William up and down mockingly, scorn etched upon his features. "How did _you_ manage to find a beautiful woman like that?" He gestured incredulously towards me. "Did you _pay_ her?"

"I'm warning you, Vincent," William sharply retorted, his voice calm, yet with a sudden, surprisingly steel edge. "Do not _dare_ speak about Elizabeth in such a vile manner. She deserves your utmost respect, and if you are not willing to concur with that, then I'll-"

"You'll _what?" _Vincent sniggered, grabbing William roughly by the collar. I wanted to intervene- God, I was _dying _to- but found myself frozen to the spot, utterly transfixed by the scene unfolding before me. William gulped, his uncharacteristic bravado rapidly fading. "Oh, I'm sure we'd all love to see what it is you'd _do_, William. Wouldn't we, chaps?" Vincent's words were met with a chorus of heckles and jeers.

_Oh God, please don't let them hurt him.._

I feebly attempted to regain mobility in my legs, but remained oddly paralyzed- partially due to the stifling tension, but mainly because I knew that a second intervention from me- a 'mere woman'- would dent William's Victorian man pride even further. So, instead, I just shut my eyes, not wanting to watch any more of this torment.

"Please, do enlighten us!" Vincent loosened his grip slightly, continuing to laugh mockingly. "What would you do, William, if you knew that I've now come to the conclusion that your precious Elizabeth must be a _whore?"_

A strangely familiar, yet highly unexpected snarl made my eyes snap open, just in time to see William violently punch Vincent square in the face.

_Holy. Freaking. Crap._

I watched, mouth gaping open, as William stood victoriously over Vincent, who was lying in a shocked, whimpering heap- with a _very _bloody nose. After a few seconds of panting from the sheer adrenaline, with a dangerous expression of lethal fury which I never thought I'd see again on that very face, William spoke; in a voice that was soft yet impenetrable.

"I did warn you not to speak about her like that."

_And this is the part where he scoops me up into his arms, and carries me off into the sunset..._

Well, effectively there _was _no sun, as it was practically night by this point.

_Fine, fine. He can ravage me by moonlight instead._

For once, I didn't even attempt to filter my inappropriate thoughts for the man I'm supposed to murder, as I was overwhelmed by the warm, fuzzy feeling of having someone defend me like that. Having someone _care _about me so much that they'd willingly face their fears, and do something completely out of their nature. Or, conversely, something- or some_one- _that's always been lurking _within_ their nature, waiting for a chance to be let loose...

_Or, maybe I'm just rambling. To stop myself from bursting with the confusing combination of motherly pride and intensely undeniable sexual desire._

_Ew. Icky combination there, Buffy..._

But luckily, I managed to contain myself as William strode towards me, walking with sudden confidence. Well, in comparison to earlier, at least. He offered me his arm with a lop-sided, apologetic smile, and I gladly took it- holding onto him far more tightly than usual. As we strolled out of the tavern, seemingly without a care in the world, I noticed how the entire building was suffocated by numbing silence. I glanced back briefly, smirking as I saw Vincent still lying pathetically on the floor, whilst all other spectators gazed after William with something new- like respect, or awe in their eyes. He didn't seem to notice though, appearing utterly oblivious as we escaped into the cool night air. I fondly watched as he removed his glasses, before attempting to straighten his clothes; calmly brushing down his waistcoat as if nothing had happened. He then raised those beautiful, innocent eyes to meet mine; his face a touching picture of tentative concern, as he took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Elizabeth, are... are you alright?"

"Yes," I replied softly, gazing up at the handsome face I knew so well, suddenly recognizing it more than ever before. "I am now."

My smile was mirrored by his own, and I made the impulsive decision to fling my arms around his neck. His entire body stiffened with shock at the sudden contact, yet he soon adjusted, slowly wrapping his arms around my waist, creating a comfortable yet intimate embrace. He smelled like fresh linen, vanilla and sunshine. I happily buried my face in his chest, relishing the steady sound of his breathing; the comforting thud of his heartbeat.

_ His_** _heartbeat..._**

For a brief, blissful minute, I forgot everything. All that existed was the the safe, warm cocoon of his arms; strong, protective arms which soon clung tighter, holding me close. And in that moment, the world seemed so much simpler.

"Well, that was certainly _not_ a scene you should have had to endure," William began, his voice slightly muffled by my hair. "And for that, I deeply and sincerely apologize. In all honestly, I... I don't quite know what possessed me! I just..." He let out a frustrated breath, which gently tickled the top of my head. "I just couldn't _bear_ to hear anyone speaking to you in such a way! Of course, I am not one to accept derogatory comments directed at _anyone... _but, the fact that it was _you-" _ William trailed off, seemingly searching for words. I moved away slightly and sought his gaze with my own. His eyes were closed. "The fact that anyone dared to insult you awakened a dormant fury within me- one which I didn't even know _existed._ It was an anger, this... this_ anger_ which I couldn't ignore, suppress or control. And... and I'm sorry! Oh, Elizabeth, I am so, _so _sorry that you had to witness it!" His eyes were now wide open; piercing blue orbs which bore into mine, shining with pleading sincerity. I felt my hands instinctively move upwards to tangle comfortingly in his hair; caressing those adorable, ridiculous curls. I felt his breathing hitch as my right hand began the slow, soft descent to his perfectly sculpted face; lightly grazing the sharp angle of his cheekbone, gently tracing the soft pout of his bottom lip. Moving even closer, I spoke in a soothing whisper.

"All I can say is... _thank you._ Thank you for defending me, William." I gazed up at the man before me, my words ringing pure and true. "You're my champion."

Any remnants of worriment instantly vanished from his face, as he broke into an ecstatic, exuberant smile. Overcome with an emotion I couldn't consciously describe, I leant in closer and pressed my lips to his cheek, giving him a gentle kiss. As I pulled away, I noticed how William's proud smile had morphed into an endearing expression of gaping disbelief. A faint blush rose to his cheeks, and he appeared incapable of looking directly at me. I was ready to succumb to the affectionate laughter bubbling up in my throat, but was hindered by the welcomed sound of a velvety British voice.

"In countless ways, I may not _be _a champion. But, for you, I am willing to try." William dared meet my eyes again, and I was transfixed by the burning passion stirring within the azure depths of his own. "For you, Elizabeth, I would do anything. I would go to the ends of the Earth if you asked me to."


	10. She doesn't fit in anywhere

Our journey home was quiet and content; me, drifting along the pathway in a dream-like daze, whilst William maintained steady pace and conversation, darting furtive glances at me, and then each time, looking away with a shy smile. This token of his happiness, combined with how happy his heartfelt, poetic words had just made _me, _brought me to the conclusion that, despite any unnecessary drama, tonight had been utterly perfect.

And yet, as we reached his front door, I still felt a vague heaviness in my heart, which somewhat marred the perfection. My previously genuine smile became forced, as we exchanged standard polite greetings with Mrs. Payne, who welcomed us warmly- as I'd apparently managed to thaw her previously icy exterior. But even the thought of such triumph didn't soothe the dull ache in my chest. And it was a pain which got progressively worse- especially when I watched William greet Anne, gently embracing her fragile form. The sincere smile Anne bestowed upon me, despite her clear decline in health, made me feel as if someone had carved a hole in my heart. But I tried my best to ignore it. I similarly tried to ignore the impending nature of my mission, which was becoming harder and harder to face every day. So, instead, I focused on the world around me, rather than the demands of the _real_ world I lived in.

Almost to make these matters more bearable, I was led back into the pattern of easy conversation; when Anne was escorted up the staircase, making her way to bed, William politely, yet adamantly insisted that I join him in the living room for "a cup of cocoa".

"Huh?"

"A cup of... gosh, have you honestly never had a cup of cocoa?" he asked, with a genuinely shocked expression.

"Nope, 'fraid not. Uh, is that some sort of sin round here?" I questioned with mock innocence. He grinned wryly.

"I daresay it may well be. But never fear! Tonight, Elizabeth, you will be fully redeemed!" he proclaimed dramatically, before whizzing out of the room before I had the chance to reply. Instead, I simply spluttered with laughter, awestruck by his immense enthusiasm for everything. Within a few minutes, William returned, carrying two steaming mugs of... hot chocolate!

_Well,_ _duh._

As he handed me my cup, I took a seat upon the generous sofa with a sheepish expression, blowing gently upon the delicious, chocolatey beverage that I'd _definitely _had before. In fact, I distinctly remembered someone else who had a pretty fond taste for it himself...

"Have you got any of those little marshmallows?"

As I expected, my quoted question was met with an expression of childlike glee. "Goodness, I wish we had! Marshmallows truly are _delightful._ Would you like me to purchase some for you? Tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Oh no, it's cool," I laughed, taking a relishing sip of my drink. "I was just wondering... although, this 'cocoa' of yours is pretty damn fine by itself, anyhow!"

"I'm thoroughly glad you like it," William replied, beaming, before gulping down the rest of his hot chocolate with surprising speed. I took a few hurried sips, in a meager attempt to keep up. "Now, I was just wondering if... um, well, if... if you'd like to hear some of my favourite poetry, b-by any chance?" William stuttered, fiddling with the handle on his cup. I placed my own cup down on the nearby table, before rising to my feet to join him; both my expression and voice soft.

"I'd love to, William."

"Why, yes, I suppose it _would _be beneficial towards your lessons-"

"No, that's not the reason," I smiled, absent-mindedly pushing a stray curl out of his eyes, which were blinking more and more rapidly as the space between us lessened. "I'm interested in _you. _If these poems mean so much to you, I'm sure they'll end up meaning something to me too. If I can understand half the words, that is," I finished my impassioned statement with a wink, trying to steer clear of dangerous, mushy seriousness.

William looked utterly thrilled, which sparked guilt in me, for some reason. "Well, in that case... I will return momentarily!"

Of course, he fulfilled his promise, and came back within minutes, arms laden with a heavy, leather-bound book. I watched curiously as he sat beside me, before opening the book with a flourish. He began flicking through the pages, yet paused as the clock began chiming. 11 o'clock. He glanced towards the ticking ornament, before fixing his gaze upon me worriedly.

"Would you prefer to retire to bed for the night, Elizabeth? Of course, I hardly expect you to return back to your own accommodation at this hour - the guest room is fully prepared!"

"Are you sure it's alright for me to stay?"

"Why, of course!" William answered, as if it was obvious. "Unless you are somewhat uncomfortable with that prospect, in which case, I profusely apologize, and am willing to accompany you-"

"No no, I am _completel__y _comfortable, don't you worry!" I chuckled. "But in that case, I don't reckon I'm ready for bed just yet. Although," I found myself yawning mid-sentence, "I _am_ kinda shattered... what with the whole 'grrrrr!' charade in the tavern earlier. Watching people beat other people up is tiring work, ya know," I stated matter-of-factly, smiling when William blushed in response.

"Again, I am so sorry that you had to witness such a..." he paused, his face holding a certain degree of confusion, followed by reluctant acceptance. "A 'grrrrr!' charade, as you say."

I burst out laughing. "Please, William... please, just promise me that you will say that to me every single day."

"You should be so lucky!" he scoffed, eyes glittering with mirth.

"Yeah, well... a nice compensation, for now, would be for you to read to me," I glanced up at him, fluttering my eyelashes and curling my lips into a practiced pout. "Pretty please?"

William chuckled. "Of course, if you wish so. What would you like to hear?"

"Anything," I purred sleepily, absent-mindedly leaning against his shoulder. After exploring the first few pages, he selected a poem, and began to read. I closed my eyes, basking in the warm, velvety tones of his voice, letting the words wash over me like a glimmering ocean tide.

"She walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that's best of dark and bright  
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:  
Thus mellow'd to that tender light  
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,  
Had half impair'd the nameless grace  
Which waves in every raven tress,  
Or softly lightens o'er her face;  
Where thoughts serenely sweet express  
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,  
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,  
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,  
But tell of days in goodness spent,  
A mind at peace with all below,  
A heart whose love is innocent!"

* * *

A_ look of hurt flashes across Spike's face, and I instantly regret my blunt, blurted lie. It's almost like my natural instinct is to beat him down, severing any bonds last night forged between us. Simply because, the fact that last night even **happened** is all kinds of wrong. Although, telling him that he was just "convenient" wasn't exactly right, either..._

_But regardless, the brief vulnerability I saw in his face is quickly erased by a characteristic scowl. To be honest, the vulnerability I thought I glimpsed probably wasn't even there in the first place. Vampires don't **have** feelings. Because, surely, feelings require being alive... whilst vampires, well, they're dead inside.  
_  
_"So, what now?" He leaps fluidly to his feet, reaching for the black jeans which were violently... **discarded,** the night before. "You go back to treating me like dirt 'til the next time you get an itch you can't scratch? Well, forget it." I raise a disgusted eyebrow at the crudeness of his words, yet find my eyes unwillingly drifting downwards, powerless to resist admiring every manly, muscular, mouthwatering inch of his body - before it's cruelly concealed from my view._ _However, my quick, mental reminder that the body I'm ogling contains a disgusting, evil, soulless **thing **makes me hastily avert my eyes. And right on cue, Spike slips into his standard pair of tight, __colourless jeans, sensually thrusting his hips as he does so- in an annoyingly hypnotizing fashion._

_Screw you, Spike._

_"Last night changed things," he concludes confidently, fastening his silver belt with a sneer. "I'm done being your whipping boy."_

_"Nothing's changed, you idiot," I shoot back scornfully. "It was a mistake, that's all! A **mistake.**"_

_"Bollocks! It was a bloody revelation," he growls, advancing towards me with a predatory gleam in his eyes, lips curled into a suggestive smirk, jeans hanging low on his hips, exposing more toned, touchable flesh than necessary. Not that I'm complaining. Although, outwardly, I am- due to the highly necessary act of... well, **acting.**_

_"You can act as high and mighty as you like... but I know where you live now, Slayer." Oh God. He's edging closer and closer towards me now, brazen confidence etched in the way he's walking, the way he's talking, and... the way he's looking at me. "I've **tasted** it."_

_Yeah... it's definitely just the cocky strut, huskily whispered words and predatory, smouldering stare which has reduced me to a puddle of melted, Buffy flavoured jelly. Mhm, there is no other reason what-so-ever. Well, apart from maybe the tongue which curls suggestively round his teeth, teasingly reminding me of the **things **that tongue can do. That, as well as the tousled, bleach-blonde bed hair, the sleep-softened, studying eyes, and the smirking lips which I already crave the taste of..._

_"Get a grip! Like you're god's gift," I snarl, attempting to extinguish misbehaving thoughts with a disgusted expression and an angry tone, whilst tearing my gaze away from the Godly body which contradicts my every word. Spike, however, appears oblivious to the raging battle inside my head._

_"Hardly!" he chuckles, his face mere inches from mine. I suppress a shiver as I feel his fingers gently skim my shoulder. Irresistibly, he bites his lip, leaning in closer. I shut my eyes, his nearness causing my adamant anger to dangerously leak away, almost giving up my desperate fight not to succumb to him. His voice lowers to a rough, seductive whisper. "Wouldn't be nearly as interesting, would it?"_

_He's going to kiss me._

_And despite every fiber of my being which begs him to, I'm going to have to push him away._

_Because that's the way it is. How it's supposed to be._

_"No!" As he leans in further, I give him a violent shove. "Let me go!" My attempts to flee towards the door are hindered by the half-naked subject of both my fantasies and greatest fears, who grabs me roughly round the shoulders, stilling my movements with strong, muscular arms - a strength which I so relished last night. A fresh wave of revulsion overcomes me, as I remember the things I let this creature of darkness do to me, mere hours ago. Although, what disgusts me most is the fact that I **liked** it; that now I knew what it was truly like to dance dangerously on the dark side, I would never again wish to venture out into the light._

_"I may be dirt, but you're the one who likes to roll in it, Slayer," he growls, breathing harshly- despite it not being an undead necessity. His scowl curls up into a crooked, smug smile. "You never had it so good as me. Never-"_

_"God, you're bent!" I interrupt furiously, shoving him off me, not wanting to hear the shameful truth of his words. The fact alone that last night had been the most intense, intoxicating, incredible night of my existence is enough to convince me that my entire life has been built on lies. Why? Why am I born the Slayer, only to be left swooning by the seductive skills of a vampire**-** one, who is definitely not Angel, and has **definitely** tried to kill me on more than one occasion. Why did it have to be **him? **How can a demon whom I harbor no feelings for make me** feel** for the first time in... God knows how long. In fact, I don't think my body has been left reeling, craving and wanting to this extent... ever._

_I cradle my head in my hands, attempting to still the sudden rush of wrong, dangerous thoughts._

_"Yeah, and it made you scream, didn't it?" Spike brashly encapsulates these thoughts; tongue curling, abs flexing, eyes burning with mirth and desire..._

* * *

I woke up with a sudden jolt, breathing heavily. Shakily rising to my feet, I ignored my pounding heart, racing mind and perspiring skin, as my eyes darted around the dark, unfamiliar surroundings, attempting to readjust to the real world which came flooding back with harsh resonance. With a relieved smile, I recognized the winding staircase opposite me. The bejeweled chandelier, the ornate wooden table, an array of potted plants, paintings, ornaments... all were extravagant elements of this room which had previously intrigued and intimidated me, yet now proved to be a familiar comfort. Recognition washed over me like a warm, refreshing wave. I was still at the Pratt's. I was still in London. London, 1880.

_Okay, Buffy, breathe. It was just a dream, that's all. Only a dream..._

But, although I kept telling myself that what I'd just experienced was merely a figment of my imagination, I felt shaken by the eerie familiarity of the scene which had unconsciously played out in my head. Like... I'd been there before.

_A familiar dream, from an unfamiliar world._

A soft, muffled moan caught my swift attention, making me jump- my senses suddenly heightened by the ripping return to reality. I whipped round to face the intruder, hand instinctively reaching for my knife, half-expecting to see an animalistic demon lunging at me with bared fangs. However, my tensed shoulders sagged with relief, and my practiced, steely 'Slayer' expression melted into a genuine smile. In stark contrast to my earlier prediction, there was no malicious monster in sight. Instead, I found William curled up on the sofa, fast asleep. I couldn't help uttering an audible _'awww'_ at the sight. As I tip-toed closer, a growing grin playing on my lips, I couldn't help but think back to the dream I'd been absorbed in only moments ago.

_He seriously underwent some** insane **transformation._

_I mean, it's pretty damn hard to believe that the devilish subject of all my forbidden, sexual fantasies was once this innocent, sleeping angel..._

With the vision of a shirtless, smirking Spike crystal clear in my mind, I scrutinized his contrasting mirror image more closely. William's head was slumped, dark golden curls falling into his eyes- which were closed, resulting in the dark curve of eyelashes upon milky cheek. His glasses had fallen halfway down his nose, and I gently removed them, daring to softly stroke his cheek as I did so, due to a sudden, unexplained urge. His lips were slightly parted, and he was breathing steadily, sometimes making adorable little grunting sounds, accompanied by the occasional twitch and fidget. I also fondly noticed the poetry book clasped protectively to his chest with one hand, which led me to realize that we both must have fallen asleep during our reading session. The placement of his other arm- outstretched across the adjacent side of the sofa- widened my smile further; he must have unconsciously put his arm around me as we slept, whilst my head rested comfortably upon his shoulder.

_Just like a normal, human couple._

I sighed in contentment, plonking myself down on the sofa, and nestling back onto my William-shaped pillow. But as I shut my eyes, hoping to succumb to a dreamless sleep, my mind suddenly churned.

_Wait... **couple?** What am I even saying?!_

My eyes snapped open, and I jumped away violently, as if the sleeping male before me had burst into flames.

_Okay, rewind. That word was never spoken._

_It's a dangerous word. Equivalent to bombs._

However, my reaction was slightly exaggerated, despite my worrying choice of vocabulary, and I sheepishly edged back towards him, praying I hadn't woken him up. Luckily, he simply shifted slightly, emitting a low, sleepy groan, before again, becoming completely still. I inwardly fist-punched the air.

But then, something else happened. Something which would've fit right into a whole world of wrong.

"Elizabeth..."

I froze.

Okay, it wasn't like it was shouted from the rooftops or anything - I mean, it was nothing more than a muffled, unconscious murmur. But regardless, I still heard my name.

My instant panic quickly transformed into amusement, followed by coy curiousity. As he whispered my name again, I watched him closely. He kept shifting slightly in his sleep; occasionally turning his head, arching his back or flexing his legs. His facial expression was unreadable, but it was obvious that whatever he was dreaming about wasn't unpleasant. In fact...

_Oh God. Did he seriously just bite his lip?_

I felt heat begin to pool between my thighs, as the combination of the late hour, the probing memory of my earlier dream and the moaning, slumbering poet before me hit me like an explosion of unbridled lust.

"Oh,_ Elizabeth..._"

The deep, provocative purr of his voice was my undoing. Was William having a... a_ naughty _dream about me? The idea in itself was bordering on ridiculous. Because, despite the fact that after being turned, he became a sultry, roguish sex god, I'd always mentally separated these two versions of William- regarding Spike as his alter ego, his polar opposite. I never once thought that Spike was a part of him, and always was.

_I wonder what it would be like to screw him..._

After inwardly gasping at my inappropriate bluntness, I quickly blamed my sleep-addled brain. And the fact that I was faced with a highly confusing situation: being sent to kill a human being with a heart of gold, who ironically appears to be the complete opposite of his future vampire self - who I happen to have sexed it up with. A lot. And now, here he is, deep in slumber, calling my name. Well, not my _name-_name, but the name he thinks is my name. Which definitely counts for something, right? But still, it's kinda weird to think that the vamp who cockily claims that he 'made me scream'- which, to be fair, he did... multiple times- was once caught in a fluster if a girl kissed him on the cheek.

_And it's even weirder to think that I, sat on the opposite end of the sofa to him, at 4 o'clock in the morning, am fantasizing about the idea of... what?_

_Kissing him on the lips this time, and seeing just how** flustered** that makes him?_

_Pouncing on him like the brazen seductress I'm pretending to be, and giving his hot, tight, little Virgin body the shock of its life?_

_Seeing if sleeping with William is the same as sleeping with Spike?_

_Although, damn it, they're the **same **guy! The same, but so very, very different..._

William had become silent and still, and I'd found myself nearing the dangerous territory of a Buffy-rant. So, I decided that it was near enough time to go to sleep. I'd just have to think about everything properly tomorrow, when I was actually conscious enough to make any logical sense. Besides, any of these thoughts I was having were highly icky and inappropriate and... _wrong. _Yup, that's what I'd just have to keep telling myself. And... I'll tell myself that I am the Slayer, and I have been sent on a mission- which must be fulfilled before these _feelings _get out of hand. Anyhow, in the mean time, Slayers should certainly _not _be fantasizing about sex with vampires.

_Although, right now, he isn't a vampire. He has a heartbeat._


	11. Death is your art

_The knife feels heavy in my hands. That's what I notice more than anything, as right now, I'm trying my utmost best to blot out the rest of the world. To make it easier. So I can pretend this isn't real. _

_But I can't help unintentionally observing how knives are actually heavier than stakes..._

_Maybe that's why my heart feels so heavy. Like it's breaking in two. _

* * *

William had been acting oddly all day. He seemed nervous around me..._ bashful, _almost. Well, moreso than usual, anyway. For a brief, terrifying second, I thought that he'd somehow unveiled my ulterior motives, and was cowering in fear of a sudden murderous attack. But I quickly reminded myself that I was being ridiculous; there was no way anyone other than I could be tortured by the constant knowledge of my impending, irrevocable betrayal. I was the only one who knew what I had do. And, if the sick, churning feeling I felt at the very thought of it was any indication, I had to act soon. Before it was too late. Before these... _feelings, _whatever they were, truly became real. Before I betrayed my friends, my family- even myself. My Slayer self, at least. Although, that's who I am, right? That's all I've ever been, and all I ever will be. I was born into this world, so that I can die saving it. And I can't let any of these _feelings_ stand in my way. I've always been told that feelings are a sign of weakness...

_I'm not **supposed** to feel. It's my destiny not to._

"Elizabeth?" There he was again, with that sweet, nervous smile he wore so frequently today, which only misted my eyes with tears. "May I speak with you a moment?"

"Actually, William, I was hoping to speak to you..." My voice was a hoarse whisper, void of any emotion.

_Emotionless. Unfeeling. Empty..._

"Could it possibly wait?" William meekly implored, his cautious approach swiftly grinding to a halt. Well, a standing position, whilst subconsciously fidgeting. "Forgive me, Elizabeth, it is just... w-well, to put it bluntly, I'm a nervous wreck!" He gave a weak bark of laughter, eyes focused intently upon his feet, which were currently scuffing the pastel carpet. "My mind has been elsewhere all day, pondering endlessly about this conversation which we have yet to have, and I quite wish to regain track of it." Our eyes met as he dared look up, smiling softly. The smile I returned was forced and vacant; tightened by the sobs which threatened to spill.

"Yeah... me too."

William beamed, utterly naive of the true meaning behind my words. "Well then, in that case, I'm sure we will both be _elated _after all is said and done! Although, I highly doubt you are apprehensive due to reasons even_ slightly_ similar to mine," he chuckled.

I barely registered what he was saying. Instead, I closed my eyes, savouring the rich, elated sound of his laughter. It was like a blanket of sunshine, always making me feel happy, cherished and safe. I then suddenly felt the comforting warmth and weight of his hand, gently tugging at mine. This led to me being unwillingly jerked back to reality, yet as he playfully pulled me in a purposeful direction across the room, I felt a genuine smile touch my lips. He guided me towards the back door, and I soon found myself unintentionally giggling, as we tumbled out into the garden, our hands still entwined.

"Elizabeth," he breathed. I found myself lost in the sheer intensity of his gaze; drowning in the azure pools of his eyes. My breath caught, and I became unsure of whether or not I was laughing... or if I was simply on the brink of crying. William seemed oblivious to this, his face a constant battle between nerves and serene contentment. I had no idea what was running through his mind. In that moment, I'd became painfully unaware of anything other than the heavy, unwanted object hidden in the pocket of my dress. I could only watch blankly as William loosened his grip on my hand, plucking up enough courage to press a delicate kiss to my palm. The gentle whisper of his soft, full lips against my skin was enough to send shivers down my spine. But still, despite the natural reaction of my body, I refused to let my mind betray me.

_I've gotta keep myself detached. A Slayer should never become attached to her prey... that's what they always said - what **I **always said._

_There I go again. Buffy the walking, talking contradiction._

Because that's exactly what I'd done. I'd become attached to the victim of my duty, the subject of my mission, my enemy by fate; to the extent where the very thought of killing him made me want to kill _myself_ straight after. Where the idea of him no longer existing- as a human, or even as a pain in the ass vampire- made my own existence seem utterly... _pointless._

_And that's why I need to do this. I have to erase him, before he erases me. All that I am, all that I've lived for, all that I strive to be... he has the power to destroy it entirely, simply by making me feel. __  
_

But what _is_ it that I feel?

_Seriously, Buffy, stop this now..._

What is it that constantly draws us together, even when fate tears us apart?

_Disconnect. Detach. Forget._

Look at us then, and look at us now. Why is it _always_ him?_  
_

_I reach into my pocket. __The knife feels heavy in my hands. That's what I notice more than anything, as right now, I'm trying my utmost best to blot out the rest of the world. To make it easier. So I can pretend this isn't real._

_But I can't help unintentionally observing how knives are actually heavier than stakes..._

_Maybe that's why my heart feels so heavy. Like it's breaking in two._

"William, please... you have to listen to me," I shakily advanced towards him, attempting to keep a firm grip on the knife, ready to brand it like a stake, despite my conscience screaming that there was no enemy to be found here. But I was determined. I was determined to end it all now, whilst I still could, both physically and mentally. And before one of my 'friends' fell from a different dimension and did it for me. But, even as I valiantly attempt to ignore the throbbing pain in my heart, the conflicting voices clouding my mind, and the cascade of tears which threatened to fall... for some reason, my shaking, sweating hand refused to leave my pocket- to thrust my bared weapon into his chest. Ending him. Killing him.

_But I have to. I have to prove to myself- to all of them- that I'm strong. __Worthy. __Independent. __Alone...__  
_  
"P-please try to understand-"

"I will understand anything which holds meaning in your heart," William interrupted softly, seemingly oblivious to the naked torture in my eyes. "All I ask is that first, you see what I hold most dear to mine." He took hold of my free hand, whilst the other clung to the inner fabric of my pocket, allowing the knife to slip through my fingers. I followed him blindly, as he led me to the most scenic part of the Pratt's beautiful, spacious garden. Through the haze of my unshed tears, I noticed several red roses, scattered in succinct sequence upon the grass. For a split second, I forgot the penetrating weight of both my thoughts and concealed weapon, and simply stared, my brow furrowing in confusion. William seemed to sense my bewilderment, and stepped assertively towards the nearest rose, bending down to retrieve it from the ground, before handing it to me with a flourish- although his hands were trembling. I signified my discarded urgency of the mission by removing my right hand completely from my pocket, reaching out, instead, for the beautiful, crimson flower. A single white ribbon attached a small slip of paper to its elegant stem. As per, curiousity gripped me, overriding any other conscious thoughts, no matter how pressing they claimed to be. I could feel William's eyes upon me even as I focused on stilling my shaking hands enough to unfold the fastened note.

It read: "Everywhere I turn, I see your beauty ignite." I broke into an automatic grin at the familiarly soppy, poetic flow of words. The bashful poet himself held out the second rose to me, which also held a note attached. For a blissful moment, I forgot my mission entirely, and found my smile widening- as I got the gist of his little game. My hand briefly touched his as I reached for the rose, and I felt another jolt of electricity shoot down my spine. Our gazes locked; stormy sapphire breathing life into vacant jade. Without a word, I collected every other scarlet bloom from the garden ground, ensuring I'd arranged them in order. Unable to control the stranger of a smile which flickered upon my lips, I read each slip of paper, one by one, before realizing that it created a full poem. The first poem that William had ever openly written about me. He was watching me intently whilst I silently read, my smile growing with each new installment, whilst contradicting tears swiftly gathered in my eyes. As I finished reading the disjointed, clichéd poem which also happened to be the most moving thing I'd read in my entire existence, I gazed up at William in wonder. He ducked his head shyly, blushing. As tears ran freely down my cheeks, I read the poem aloud, in its entirety.

"Everywhere I turn, I see your beauty ignite.  
Lost in your eyes, thou art all in my sight.  
Irrevocably, my heart sings, calling out to yours.  
Zenith stars in the sky shine for you - thy wonderous cause.  
All the world should bow down, with your name on its lips,  
Basking in your rare light, which could prevent an eclipse.  
Even as time goes on, I remain on my knees,  
To adore all that you are, within wake or my dreams.  
Hands upon heart, I swear now it is true..." I trailed off tearfully, a small part of me wondering why the poem ended so abruptly, whilst the rest of me was too emotionally overwhelmed to care.

But after a slight pause, William supplied the final line for me. "I have fallen forever, deeply in love with you." His voice rasped, and his entire frame trembled, yet I still heard those tragic, potent words with perfect clarity. And I would never forget them, for as long as I lived.

_Even when the time finally comes for me die- properly, for once- I know that it will be those very words which will echo inside my head, lulling me to eternal sleep._

My tears were the only sound to be heard, as silence infiltrated the air. William coughed awkwardly, before a babbling confession spilled from his lips.

"I'm afraid that your name- despite being a perfectly _perfect _name, of course- holds an odd number of letters. I... I could not rhyme the penultimate line with anything, you see, therefore I decided it best to simply tell you how I feel _vocally_, as opposed to adding an extra letter to your name. Which, of course, you may have found offensive... especially given the obvious fact that your name is beautiful as it is- very much like the rest of you..." He suddenly trailed off from his nervous rambling, simply staring at me with pleading, hopeful eyes. My own tear-filled eyes widened. It suddenly clicked.

_The lines of the poem spell out my **name!**_

_Well, not my actual name, but still. He wrote a beautiful, heartfelt poem, with each line representing a letter of what he thinks is my name, presented in the most romantic way possible, in an attempt to fully confess his love, and have it reciprocated. By me. Me, who has a knife in her pocket ready to stab him straight through his pure, adoring heart._

_Oh God, oh God, oh God..._

Unable to continue keeping a reign on my battling emotions, I burst into full floods of tears, letting the sobs I'd tried so desperately to control loose, as they wracked my entire body. I couldn't do it. I couldn't detach myself any longer. Not when I knew- now, I really knew- that it was _more _than simple attachment which I felt for this man. This beautiful, _beautiful_ man, who's love was breathtaking, extraordinary and incomparable... God, I didn't just hold _feelings_ for him. No, it was more than that. It was... well, to put it bluntly, the realization that this was real; that I was actually going to _stab _William, was more excruciating than the dreaded day where a similar situation occurred: a sword was plunged through Angel, at my own hand. The dreaded day that I killed the man I loved, to save the world. But, despite the obvious parallels of the two 'stabbing guys I love for the greater good' scenarios... _this_ pain was stronger, and it-

_Wait, so does that mean that I... am I saying that I **love **him?_

The answer was found quite simply by William's reaction to my sudden outburst of noisy tears. He rushed to my side, his expression one of sheer horror, wrought with fear and confusion. He instinctively wrapped his arms around me- his touch tentative, gentle, yet both firm and strong.

_Yes. That's my answer. Yes, I do._

But I could never tell him. Even as he frantically begged to know what was wrong, apologizing for his 'brash behaviour', and claiming that he would do anything to see me smile again... I knew that he must never know the truth. That I loved him as much as he loved me, and I was defying all that I am because of it. But I also knew that I had to leave, to think this all through in my head. Abandoning the mission would lead to all sorts of consequences back home, but it was pretty obvious that killing the guy I'd just had a epiphany about- finally realizing I'd been madly in love with him this entire time- was not ever going to realistically happen. I'd just have to find some way to make sure that our timelines don't align, our worlds don't merge - and he never, _never _finds out who I really am. All I wanted to do was to keep him safe. But with the heavy knife in my pocket acting as a disturbing reminder for what might have happened if it weren't for roses and rhymes, I felt the tears fall faster; whilst my rapidly deteriorating ability to breathe made William's comforting arms begin to feel more and more like a restraint.

And so, I broke free- leaping to my feet, surprising William with my Slayer strength and almost sending him flying. The world was a blur, and I heard him call my name; his voice confused, wounded and frightened.

But I had no choice. I did the only thing I could do.

I ran.


End file.
